


Lonely Is The Night

by Alternate_Alien



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arthur Deserves The World, Arthur being the sweetie he is, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Virginity, Multiple Sex Positions, Mutual Pining, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sex Talk, So I'm gonna give him some happiness, reader with glasses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-01-04 14:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alternate_Alien/pseuds/Alternate_Alien
Summary: Gotham is a lonely place and all you want is someone to talk to. A friend. Which is exactly what you find when you start sitting with the sweet, yet strange, elderly woman down the hall and meet her son, Arthur.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I'm writing something else! I needed fluff and sweetness and a little bit of sexy rolled into one because Arthur deserves it! This fic will take place maybe 6 or 7 months before the events of the movie but eventually will move into that timeline as well. So, we will get Joker in here too. :)

* * *

_Everybody needs someone, sometimes._

* * *

__   
  


“Mom?” The voice at the door behind you made you turn to look over your shoulder. “What happened?” 

You’d seen Ms. Fleck’s son a few times in passing, usually late at night or early morning, and you stood up with a reassuring smile. An hour or so ago, you had heard the woman cry for help and found her in the hallway with her ankle twisted and an envelope squeezed in her fist. She reached out as her son stepped into the living room, his face full of worry.

He looked to the bandage wrapped around her ankle then to you. 

“She had a small stumble in the hallway and twisted her ankle. I’ve wrapped it and given her some Tylenol.”

He dropped to his knees in front of the armchair she sat in and took her hands. “What were you doing in the hallway?”

“I just wanted to catch the mailman before he left the building and ask if he’s been misplacing my letters.” 

You glanced to the envelope sitting on the coffee table and tried not to look too curious. She had been awfully protective of that letter and you had managed to catch the sight of Thomas Wayne’s name on the front. Which wasn’t surprising, really. Lots of people wrote to him and Ms. Fleck had told you she used to work for him.

It was normal for the elderly to become fixated on things, especially from their past and as her son made sure she was alright, you stepped away to give them some space. Once you were in the kitchen, you could still hear Ms. Fleck’s soft voice. 

“She was very kind to help. You should ask if she has a boyfriend.”

“Mom,” he warned, making a smile pull at the corner of your lips. You crossed your arms over your chest and pretended to be interested in the framed picture of a bouquet of flowers hanging in the foyer. From the corner of your eye, you watched him help her to her feet and put her arm around his shoulder. 

“Here, let me help.” You took your place on the other side of her and she sighed in mild frustration.

“Well, this is too much fuss for me.”

“Sometimes you need a little fuss.” 

Ms. Fleck shook her head as the two of you helped move her into the bedroom. At the door, you stayed behind and let him put her to bed. She asked him to turn on the television and he did before bringing the blankets up to her waist as she propped against the pillows.

“Don’t stay up too late,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead and she swatted him away. 

“Oh, I’m not a child, Happy. I can stay up as late as I want to.” She crossed her arms over her chest, much like a pouting child, and focused on the glow of the television screen. With a shake of his head, he turned back to the door and you stepped away to let him out of the room.

You both made your way toward the front door and you turned to face him with a polite smile, glancing at a white smear across the collar of his shirt. When he sighed, you looked back up at his face and found him putting a cigarette to his lips. “Thank you,” he said, sounding as tired as you felt. “I should have been here.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can’t be here all the time and honestly, she kept me company more than I helped her, I think.” 

He blew out a breath of smoke and you let him open the door for you. With a nod, he let you pass and you turned back to face him as he leaned a shoulder against the frame. There was exhaustion behind his eyes, sitting in the dark circles beneath them and you gave him a small smile. 

“I keep telling her to wait for me to come home. I can do all the chores and errands so she doesn’t have to get out.”

“Well,” you started, glancing back into his apartment over his shoulder. “She knows you’re working and didn’t want to bother you when you got home, I think. But, I don’t mind coming by to check on her through the day.”

His eyes lifted to meet yours and you noticed how green they were. Almost an unnatural color and for a moment, you were caught off guard. He took another drag and stepped back to blow it away from you. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. I work in a retirement home just outside the city so I’m certified in first aid and CPR. Really, I don’t mind.”

“We can’t afford to pay you.”

You understood that completely. You could barely afford curtains for your apartment since moving in and you shrugged a shoulder. “Look, Mr. Fleck, to be honest, I’m new to the city and I don’t think I’ve had a conversation with someone outside of work for the past two months. Her company and conversation are the only payment I’m looking for.” 

It was the truth. You didn’t have many friends and those you had have all moved on with their lives, getting married, having kids, renting condos for their vacations. Everyone had got a handle on life, pulled themselves up and you were twenty-five years old, still struggling to pay for rent and groceries in the same month. 

For a moment, he blinked at you and considered your offer. After a moment, he nodded and took another drag of his cigarette. “Alright. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I work alternating shifts, so on Mondays and Fridays, I can be here in the morning and the rest of the week I can be here in the afternoons.”

“That’s fine. I don’t have a set schedule so I’m gone a lot, whenever they need me.” He scratched at his bottom lip and narrowed his eyes just a bit. “You sure you don’t care?”

“Not at all. I’d be happy to help.” You turned on your heel and made your way back down to your own apartment. Before you got too far away, he spoke again and you glanced back at him. 

“I’m Arthur, by the way.”

You told him your name and he smiled. It was one of those lopsided smiles that only guys seemed to know how to perfect, the kind that left you with just a small tinge of pink across the tops of your cheeks. As you turned to push your door open, your hair falling from where you had tucked it behind your ear, you thought you could feel him still staring at you.

You decided not to look up and make sure, knowing it was more than likely just your imagination anyway. 

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for the kudos and comments! Thought I'd post another one real quick just so the story can start developing and hopefully pull you in to read :) Arthur is such a sweetie in this chapter, I got a toothache from writing him!

* * *

You stood in Ms. Fleck’s kitchen, half-listening to her ramble on and on about her life while making her some breakfast. It was clear that she was excited to have someone new to talk to. She loved her son, but you assumed he had heard these stories a dozen times and telling them to someone new was making the woman quite talkative. 

By the time you had gotten to their apartment that morning, Arthur was running out the door. He tried to linger, informing you of what they had in the kitchen food wise and what her daily schedule was like, but he was clearly in a hurry. You had assured him with a smile that you would be fine and not to worry. 

That had been two hours ago and you were finally able to make her some food. She insisted she wasn’t hungry but it was almost noon and she hadn’t eaten a single thing. It was common for the elderly to skip meals. You saw it all the time at work.

“Do you like your eggs scrambled?” You said through the opening in the kitchen.

Ms. Fleck looked up at you and waved a hand. “Don’t trouble yourself. Just make you some food and I’ll eat what’s left.”

“No, this is your breakfast. I’m going to make it how you want.”

She shook her head and sat back in her chair. “Scrambled is fine. Are you sure you won’t eat?”

“I can make a sandwich.” 

After only a bit more fuss, Ms. Fleck sat with her breakfast in her lap and ate while you cleaned up the mess in the kitchen. Their apartment was relatively neat, maybe a little clutter here and there, so you did the chores that had been neglected for a while.

You mopped the kitchen and took a rag to the baseboards to clear the dust away before moving into the living room to vacuum. All the while, Ms. Fleck never stopped talking. If it wasn’t about her time working for the Wayne family, it was about Arthur or the state of Gotham. 

She was a bit exhausting, but you were used to it in your line of work. The older people got, the lonelier they were, and you related to that more than you cared to admit. She had been cooped up in this apartment for years with only her child and television to keep her company.

Once you had finished the vacuuming, you cleaned her plate and put it away, returning to the living room to sit on the couch. She turned to you with a smile. “Is your eyesight bad?”

You reached up to touch your glasses and shrugged. “Bad enough that I can’t see without glasses.”

“I read that carrots can help with your eyesight. You should get some.”

You laughed. “Is that so? I’m not a big fan of carrots, but I’ll try to eat more of them.”

She turned back to the television, but it didn’t hold her attention for long. She looked at you once more and you lifted your eyebrows, waiting for her to speak. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

That question, you could already tell, was going to open a can of worms. You shifted on the couch and took a moment to decide if you wanted to lie to her, or to tell her the truth because you knew the next thing out of her mouth would be about Arthur. And while he was sweet and handsome in a strange sort of way, you weren’t in the market for a boyfriend at the moment.

So you decided to land on a response somewhere between truth and a lie. 

“I actually just got out of a pretty bad relationship not too long ago. I’m not ready to date just yet.” The lie was that the relationship ended two years ago, but it had been bad and you truly didn’t want to date anyone. Probably not for a very long time. You hoped Ms. Fleck would take the hint, but judging by the smile on her face, it was clear she did not.

“My Happy is a good boy. He’s very sweet. I tried to get him to ask you on a date but I suppose he hasn’t yet.” You decided to play it diplomatically and nodded with a smile. She settled back in her chair and turned her attention back to the game show playing on the screen. After a moment, you did the same, thinking the conversation had dropped. When she spoke again, you were surprised by the tone of her voice. “He seems so sad lately.”

It didn’t sound as if she were telling you specifically as if she was used to thinking out loud and had let it slip out. You decided to ignore it and excused yourself to the bathroom. As you shut the door behind you and turned to face the toilet, you caught your reflection in the mirror and turned away with a sigh. 

_ He seems so sad lately _…

You had seen it in his face the first time you met him. It was written clearly in the lines of his face, the way he smoked, the way he looked at you in the hallway when he admitted they couldn’t afford to pay you. 

And you knew exactly what that sadness felt like.

.

.

A week had passed with you balancing work with your new task of staying with Ms. Fleck. She had gotten tired of you addressing her so formally, claiming it made her feel old, and you were trying to get used to calling her Penny. 

You had worked until four in the afternoon on Thursday and managed to get back home to shower and change before walking to your neighbor’s door. Penny was waiting for you and when she saw you come in, her face lit up with a smile, waving you into the living room. 

“Look who’s on the TV!” 

You stepped into the room and looked down at the man on the screen. He was familiar, but you didn’t have a television, so you didn’t know who he was. Fortunately, Penny was ready to inform you all over again about how she had worked for Thomas Wayne for several years.

With a nod, you turned back to the man and listened to him speak about his upcoming campaign for Gotham City Mayor. “He can do great things for this city,” she said. “I just know it.”

“Well, I hope so. Are you getting hungry? I could start dinner.”

Penny turned to look at you and sighed. “I’m not used to eating so much. You’re going to make me fat.”

“Penny, you’ve eaten two meals today. You’re supposed to get three a day.” 

With another sigh, she waved you off and you turned to the kitchen with a shake of your head. Whether she wanted you to or not, you were going to at least cook _ something _ for her to eat. And while their pantry was limited, you tried to get at least the major food groups onto a plate for her. She was already so thin and if stepping out of her doorstep resulted in a twisted ankle, she needed some protein and calcium.

You wondered if you could start grocery shopping for them. Your own budget was stretched pretty thin, but if you would be here, eating their food as well, you needed to contribute. And judging by the lack of variety, you figured they could use the help. 

As you ducked your head down to look into their fridge, you called back to Penny. “What do you like to eat?”

“I’m not picky.”

You sighed and leaned over to look at her through the opening. “I know you aren’t. But I’m asking you what you _ like _. Surely you have a favorite food?”

For a moment, she looked at you and you wondered if she was even listening. “I like sweet things. Cake and chocolate. But I shouldn’t eat them. They’re fattening.” 

“Why are you so worried about getting fat? You’ve got a great figure! How about next week, I’ll bring some chocolate and we’ll enjoy ourselves.” When she smiled at your suggestion, you turned back to the fridge and pulled out a chicken breast you had put in earlier to thaw. Paired with some potatoes and greens, you hoped what she said about being picky was true.

You’d only ever seen her truly eat rather bland foods like oatmeal and cereal a lot. She needed more nutrition. And as long as you were here, that’s what you were going to give her. 

You laid a potato out on the counter to cook and grabbed a can of green beans from the pantry, freezing as the front door opened. You stayed behind the cabinet door, not sure why you were even hiding. It’s not like Arthur being there made you uncomfortable or anything. 

But you were well aware of how his mother tried to get him to talk to you, even if she whispered to him when she thought you weren’t listening. He was always nice about it, assuring her that he would while not actually doing it. Maybe he was as uncomfortable with it as you were.

“Did you check the mailbox, Happy?”

“Yes, Mom. Just bills.” He tossed them onto the counter in the kitchen and finally noticed you standing there, staring down at a can of green beans to avoid looking at him. “Oh, I didn’t think you’d be here today.”

“It’s Thursday.”

What?

Why would you say that?

He hadn’t asked what day it was and though it had made sense in your head at the time, now you were questioning yourself for being an airhead. You turned away from him and rifled through the drawers for a can opener. Without saying anything else to you, he moved into the living room to greet his mother with a kiss to the side of her head. 

“Did you have a good day?” She asked softly.

“It was alright.”

You couldn’t help looking over at them, watching as he pulled his coat off. He didn’t sound very convincing. With a sigh, he pushed a hand through his hair and turned away. “I’m going to take a shower.”

You looked back down at the chicken breast sitting on the counter and sprinkled a bit of pepper and salt for seasoning and put it on a pan. It went into the oven and you closed the door just as Arthur did the same in the bathroom. A moment later, the water turned on and you moved to the potato.

“I don’t care for this program,” Penny said from the living room, pulling your attention to her. She started to get up and winced as she put pressure on her foot. You were around the wall in a flash, helping her back into the chair. “Can you switch the channels for me?”

“Yes, but I think you’re going to have to see a doctor about your ankle.”

“Oh, it’s fine.”

You turned the channel to the evening news and pursed your lips as you stared down at her. “It should be feeling better by now.”

“It does.” She nodded and smiled up at you, folding her hands in her lap. “I’ll be fine.”

There was no use arguing with her. You’d met some stubborn people over the years in this line of work, but she was something else. Shaking your head, you turned and moved back into the kitchen to slice the potatoes. Once they were diced and dropped into the pan of oil, you took the can opener and the green beans.

From the bathroom, you heard the faucet creak as it was twisted and the sound of the water stopped. You twisted the can opener and didn’t know why you were having such a hard time _ not _ looking toward the hallway. It wasn’t like you were attracted to Arthur. He was strange and much too thin for your tastes.

It was more like a..._ curiosity _. He was so quiet and from what you’d heard from Penny, he was a performer, some kind of clown for parties. That in itself was strange and you found yourself wondering what the hell kind of job he had. Did he dress up in a bright, orange wig, with a red nose that would honk when he squeezed it?

The mental image was laughable. 

How could a guy who looked so miserable and tired all the time work as a figure that was supposed to be perpetually happy? The question was on your mind as the door opened and a bit of steam misted out into the hallway. From where you stood, you could only see a small bit of the hallway and your eyes slid to the side.

Arthur stepped out, barefoot and wearing a pair of baggy pajama pants. Your eyes traveled up the length of his body, the hand on the can opener giving it another turn, and you spied how his hair had been brushed back and dripped down on the shoulders of his shirt.

The lid of the can popped open suddenly, slicing across your thumb and you dropped it and the can opener as you jumped back with a gasp. A thick bead of blood was already starting to bubble from the cut and you cursed. You reached for a rag just as Penny noticed you. 

“Oh, dear, what happened?” 

“I cut my finger,” you mumbled, wrapping the rag around it tightly. Around the doorway, Arthur appeared and you lifted your eyes to meet his. 

“Are you alright?” 

“I don’t know. It feels deep.” He crossed the room in two steps and reached for your hand. You noticed a slight hesitation in him and at first, you thought he would pull back altogether. But he took the rag and unwound it from your thumb. “I need to wash it.”

Arthur turned the water on in the sink and you took a good look at the wound. It was deeper than you thought and you hissed as he positioned it beneath the faucet. “You might need stitches,” he said softly, looking down at the cut through the water.

Instantly, your mind turned to how much money you had in your bank account. There was just enough to get you to work and back for the next week. Definitely not enough for an after-hours emergency room visit. 

“I can’t.” Taking a deep breath, you squeezed your thumb and glanced back at the oven. “The chicken is going to burn.”

He reached over and turned the temperature down with one hand while the other still gripped you around your wrist. He pulled you out of the kitchen and guided you down the hall toward the bathroom. It still smelled like his shower and you were surprised by how much you liked the scent. It instantly brought warmth to your cheeks and you ducked your head. From the living room, Penny called out. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, Mom.”

You could hear the weariness in his voice and you watched him as he turned to flip the light switch up with his elbow. He sat you on the toilet seat and opened the medicine cabinet. There were more pill bottles than you were expecting and you blinked up at them in surprise. Ms. Fleck had said she wasn’t taking any medication. 

As the mirror clicked back into place, you stared up at Arthur’s reflection as he opened a box of bandaids and pulled a few out. Was he on that many meds? It could explain why he was so thin. He turned toward you and you quickly averted your gaze down to your wrapped and wounded thumb. 

He carefully pulled the rag away and as the air hit the cut, you winced again. Blood was still seeping out and Arthur dabbed gently at it. He turned your hand to get a better look at it and smiled. “I think you’ll live.”

“Don’t say that,” you laughed. “You’ll jinx it.”

He let out a small laugh and wrapped the bandage around your thumb. It was still bleeding beneath it, but not as badly as before. You admired his handiwork and smiled. “You’re better at this than I am.”

“I’ve had practice.” His words surprise you. Not the words themselves exactly, but the tone in which he said them as if it almost hurt to actually get them out. With a flicker of his eyes up at yours, he cleared his throat and stood to tuck the box of bandaids back into the cabinet. He left you sitting on the toilet seat and you could hear him speak quietly to his mother, reassuring her that you were alright.

After a moment of hesitation, you stood and took the blood-stained rag back into the kitchen. He was already in the room, cleaning up the spilled can of beans and small drops of blood that had dripped onto the floor. “Oh, I can get that. It’s my mess.”

“I don’t mind,” he said softly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could hear his smile. You waited for him to wipe up the spill and dump the beans and can into the trash can pushed into the corner beside the window. 

You moved further into the room and turned the temperature down on the potatoes, pulling them off the eye. The chicken was nearly finished as well and as you opened the oven to check it, you glanced at him leaning against the counter, watching you work with a slight smile on his face. 

“I can make you something if you’re hungry,” you offered.

Arthur put a hand to his chest. “Me? I’m not hungry.” 

You glanced down to his waist and quickly looked away. What was with this family and not wanting to eat? You sighed and pulled the chicken from inside the oven. It was hard to do things with the thumb on your dominant hand injured and you nearly sent the pan tumbling to the floor as well. As you sighed in frustration, Arthur stepped closer and took the oven mitt from your hand. He took over and you stepped back, taking his position of leaning against the counter to watch him this time.

He put the food on a plate and cut the chicken into strips for his mother before pouring her a glass of water. He smiled to you as he turned to serve it to her and you stayed behind, staring at the spot he had just occupied. 

The need to leave was growing stronger and you dusted your hands on your hips before moving to the coat rack near the front door. You snatched your jacket and smiled at them in the living room. “I should go.”

“So soon?” Penny asked with her fork halfway to her mouth. “We were going to watch some television.”

“I’ve got some things I need to do before bed. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” Your eyes moved to meet Arthur’s and lingered for just a second longer than normal. He gave you a small smile and you held up your thumb. “Thanks for the help.”

He didn’t respond. Just held up a hand in a wave and you turned to the door. Outside in the hallway, you took a deep breath and waited on their doorstep. After a moment, the volume on the television turned up and you could hear Arthur’s footsteps moving back toward the bathroom. 

You snapped yourself out of whatever daze you found yourself in and moved down to your own apartment. Except you didn’t actually go inside. You walked to the elevator and rode it down to the ground floor, ignoring the trembles of the aged machinery. For whatever reason, you were going to do something irresponsible and spend what little money you had in your checking account on a bottle of wine.

Because for some reason, you needed to dull these strange thoughts inside your head, thoughts you didn’t quite know how to process or even...well, think about them. All you knew was that you needed to forget about the sadness in the way Arthur speaks and that smile he has when he doesn’t think you’re looking. 

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Laundry day was every Sunday for you. And you felt as if over the past few weeks, your clothes had doubled in numbers. You'd trudged your overstuffed hamper down to the washing machines on the first floor and even now, an hour later, you were still down in the depths of the building. A load of towels, fresh smelling and folded sat at the bottom of the now empty hamper and you moved onto the darks. 

For the first time since you moved in, you were alone in the usually packed laundry room. There was one machine going but whoever had turned it on had decided not to wait around for it to finish. You'd tried that once, and came back to find half your clothes missing and the other half sopping wet and dumped out on the floor.

So now, you stuck around and guarded your clothes, even if that meant enduring the boredom. You brought along a magazine today, but had read all of the interesting articles and the only ones left were sex tips about turning your man on. Well, you didn't have a man, so what was the point in even looking at those?

With a sigh, you dropped the magazine onto the chair beside you and let your head fall back against the wall. You closed your eyes and reached up to pull your hair free from the ponytail. As it fell, the headache pulling at your temples lifted and you gave a small grunt of satisfaction as you massaged at your head.

That moment of peace was interrupted by the sound of shuffling feet and you dropped your arms to your lap. You peeked out from behind your lashes to see a familiar thin figure move into the laundry room. He didn't look up or notice you at all and for a few moments, you watched Arthur. 

He had a laundry basket beneath one arm and he wore the same type of clothes you were used to seeing him in by now. A soft, grey sweater vest over a button up and a pair of loose fitting slacks. For a party clown, he often dressed as a middle-aged accountant. 

You smiled at the thought and cleared your throat to announce your presence. He turned and seemed surprised to see you. His eyes widened and he shuffled back to face you with a smile. "Hey," he said softly.

It was nice to see someone actually happy to see you. He looked at you like an old friend and not the girl who he's seen nearly everyday for the past two weeks. Then again, you hardly interacted with each other. Either he was rushing out the door when you got there in the morning, or you were leaving shortly after he got home. It was nice seeing him relaxed and not in a hurry today. You smiled at him. "Hey."

The sound of the dryer dinging turned your attention to your clothes and you stood to your feet, grabbing the hamper so you had something to put the clean clothes in. Behind you, you were aware Arthur was still standing there, possibly watching you. 

You turned and glanced back at him from over your shoulder and he quickly busied himself at the washing machine, as if he hadn't been staring at you. It made the corner of your lips lift in a smirk and you turned back to your own laundry. 

The two of you stayed quiet; you folding while he sorted and dropped clothes into the washing machine. When the lid closed, you glanced back once more. He added the quarters and twisted the knob to turn the water on. When he faced you, you smiled at him. 

This seemed to surprise him as well. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest, clearly feeling awkward or uncomfortable around you. Folding a pair of jeans, you dropped it into the hamper and spoke. "You were right."

"What?"

You held up your thumb. The cut had healed all the way and all that was left was a white scar that was barely noticeable. You flashed a grin to him. "I lived. No major surgeries needed."

"Oh," he dropped his head and laughed softly. "Good. That's good. I'm glad you'll live."

"Yeah?" You picked up a warm shirt and folded it down the middle. "If I died, who else would spill cans of food in your kitchen and cut themselves wide open?" 

The laugh that he let out surprised you. Mostly because you hadn't expected him to find what you said very funny, but partly because he instantly covered his mouth and shook his head. You chuckled and dropped the shirt in with the other clean clothes. 

"Are you laughing at how clumsy I am?"

He shook his head, the laughter finally fading from him. "No, I'm not laughing at you. I'm sorry. I can't help it."

"Don't apologize." You leaned a hip against the dryer and faced him. "I laugh at how clumsy I am as well. I tripped getting on the elevator to come down here and nearly dropped all of my dirty clothes."

"That would have been funny," he admitted, still with his head ducked. He was acting as if this was the first time you'd ever spoken to him. Maybe it was different without his mother whispering to him or speaking incessantly about things that popped in her head. Down here, it was just the two of you and his sudden shyness made you more curious about him. 

"Its funny until it's your underwear that's on display in the elevator." Again, he laughed and you found yourself doing the same. He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, almost embarrassed by the sound of it. Poor guy. He'd probably been made fun of for it in the past and was self conscious about it now. 

For some reason, the thought made you sad and you turned back to your own laundry to fold the rest of it. After a moment, he moved to the dryers and leaned against them the same as you had, though he kept his distance from you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see he was trying to say something but kept closing his mouth at the last second. Probably to ask you out after so many hints from his mother. 

It made your stomach pinch and you debated on whether to dump the rest of your laundry and make an excuse to leave. You didn't want to make him feel awkward or make him feel like he had to ask you out because either way, you were going to say no. Before he could say anything, you turned to face him and pointed to the box of laundry detergent next to his elbow. 

"Could you hand me that?" 

He nodded and did as you asked and you placed the rest of your clothes and the box into the hamper. He watched you pick the bundle up and you gave him another smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, Arthur." 

You got halfway to the door before he called your name. As you turned, he was picking up something from the floor and your face burned bright red. He held a pair of your granniest white panties in his hands and you wondered if he even noticed what it was. "You dropped this."

You grabbed it from him quickly and shoved it down into the hamper with a sigh. "Well, now you know what my panties look like." His eyes went wide and he quickly pulled his hand back.

"I'm sorry--I-I shouldn't have touched them."

For whatever reason, you lifted your lips in a smirk and gestured with a nod to the basket he had brought down. "It's only fair that you show me yours now." 

Again, his eyes widened and you let him think you were serious for a moment. It was charming, in an awkward, bashful way how he seemed torn between laughing it off as a joke and actually going to his basket to find a pair of his underwear. Before he could make a decision either way, you laughed and shook your head. 

"I'm joking, Arthur." At the doorway, you glanced back to see him still standing where he was, staring after you with a look of confused amusement on his face. "See you later." 

It really shouldn't have been that much fun to make him blush. As you stepped into the elevator, careful not to trip this time, you found yourself smiling, the look on his face still lingering in your head.

.

.

It was Wednesday before you saw Arthur again. You hadn't meant to stay so late at their apartment and had actually planned to go out and see a movie and pick up dinner since it was your payday. A nice little treat for yourself. 

But by 8, Arthur hadn't come home and you didn't want to admit you were a _ little _ worried. Not much though. He was a grown man, free to do what he wanted when he wanted. Still, he had been pretty good about coming back at a decent hour to relieve you. 

You'd mentioned it to Penny, but she had been engrossed in some old, black and white film and had given you a flippant response. So when the hour rolled onto the next one, you decided to chalk it up to him being a typical man and stopping by a bar to drown his sorrows. Exactly what you had wanted to do. 

As you sat on the couch, glancing occasionally to Penny who couldn't decide whether or not to drift off to sleep in her chair or keep watching the movie, you curled your legs up beside you. The pillow beneath you was a bit uncomfortable and you pulled it out and looked down at the blue case covering it. And then you noticed the blanket draped over the back of the couch and sheets…

Did Arthur sleep on the couch? You don't know why you hadn't noticed it before. Were you that clueless? It was a one bedroom apartment and he had to sleep somewhere. Certainly not with his mother, which would be creepy. 

You frowned, pulled his pillow into your lap and draped an arm across it. The case was soft, as if it had gone through multiple washes and you traced the embroidered flower pattern around the trim. Penny's snoring caught your attention and you turned to look over at her sleeping soundly with her head propped against the back of the chair. 

A part of you knew you should take her to her bedroom and make sure she was in bed before going back to your own, but you were more concerned with making sure Arthur was actually coming back home. Not that you were worried. 

You slid down on the cushions and laid his pillow against the arm of the couch before dropping your head onto it. The black and white movie she had been watching was loud, but somehow, you found yourself drifting off anyway. As your breath slowed and evened out, you inhaled the smell of shampoo and laundry detergent. There was something else as well, something that you wondered whether it was unique to Arthur or not. 

You weren't sure how long you laid there, possibly snoring while you hugged Arthur's pillow to your head, but when you finally blinked your eyes open, the movie had been switched to a late night talk show. The room around you was much darker as well. You distinctly remember the lamp beside the couch being on.

As you shifted on the couch to look up at Penny, you gasped and sat up. Penny had been moved and in her place sat Arthur. He turned to look at you and frowned. "What's wrong?" He asked, his voice soft.

It was now that you finally looked at him. He was fresh from a shower and the sight of his damp hair sent a little flutter of butterflies tickling the inside of your stomach. You blinked and ignored the way your body reacted to him. 

"I...I didn't hear you come in. How long have you been home?" 

You rubbed at the corner of your eyes and sat up, caught in the disorienting haze of sleep. Maybe that was why you were getting butterflies at the sight of him. Everyone had strange sensations after taking a nap. You pushed his pillow aside and thankfully, there was no drool on it. 

"Not long. Maybe an hour."

"An _ hour _? You let me sleep for an hour?" You weren't sure why you weren't upset with him. You should have been, but it was sweet that he had let you sleep. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"That's alright. You could go back to sleep if you want." 

You let out a laugh and combed your hair back away from your face. "Arthur, I live three doors down. I prefer my bed." When he nodded, his smile slipping a bit, you sighed. "But thank you. It's sweet for you to offer."

"I could show you my underwear." 

Your eyes widened and you stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. What the fuck? And then the conversation you had shared in the laundry room on Sunday came flooding back to into your mind. He shook his head with a frown pinching his eyebrows, an apology already on his lips. 

As quietly as possible, which wasn't very much at all, you leaned your head back and laughed. Penny was asleep in the other room, but you couldn't help it. You put your hand over your mouth and laughed into it, hoping it muffled the sound. But soon, he was laughing with you and you couldn't stop. 

"Shh," he said, putting a finger to his lips as he leaned forward. You shook your head and waved a hand, finally feeling your laughing fit slowing. It left your ribs sore and you slid your arm around them, holding your waist tightly. 

"I'm sorry. That was just so unexpected."

"You said it would only be fair," he said with a simple shrug of one shoulder. 

With a smile lingering across your lips, you shook your head at him and slid to the edge of the couch. "I think we should save the peep show for later."

The look of disappointment that flickered across his face sent those damn butterflies back into your stomach. How were you so charmed my a man who could barely look you in the eye when you were alone? It couldn't continue, that was for sure. 

You didn't want to lead him on, make him think you were being _ too _ friendly with him. As much as you wanted to stay just for a little longer and laugh with him, you knew it wouldn't be a good idea. You stood to your feet and crossed to the door where your purse hung from one of the hooks on the coat rack.

"I'll see you tomorrow," you whispered, glancing back at him. 

Arthur lifted a hand and waved at you, the smile on his face bringing a similar one to yours as well. Closing the door behind you, you turned toward your apartment. Before you could get too far away, the door behind you opened once more and you spun to face Arthur with your eyebrows raised. He opened his mouth and shut it again.

"Nevermind," he said shyly making you let out a soft laugh. You adjusted the strap of your purse and smiled. 

"What?"

"No, it's fine. I was just wondering if you'd maybe like to get dinner one night?" He didn't look at you when he asked it, instead focusing on the dirty, dusty floor and for some reason, that tugged harder at your heart strings. Ugh, why did he have to be so nice? Why couldn't he be like the other jerks who ever asked you out? 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you eyed him with playful suspicion. "Did your mother put you up to this?"

Arthur glanced back into his apartment before stepping further out into the hallway with a shake of his head. "No. Well, maybe. But I figured I could try to repay you for helping us."

Oh, God, he was really pushing you tonight. Biting your lip, you ducked your head with a nod. "You don't have to repay me for anything. I told you, I need the company just as much as she does." 

Apparently, he needed some company as well and the thought made you feel a sudden rush of sadness. You'd been so concerned and caught up with providing Penny some much needed attention, you hadn't even thought about Arthur. How lonely it would be to only have your mother to talk to, day in and day out? Biting your lower lip, you glanced to the peeling wallpaper on the hallway wall.

"How about lunch instead?" Lunch was very clearly not a date. "I'm free Saturday. But, you don't have to repay me for anything, so no paying for my meal." 

There. That made it abundantly clear that it was in no way, shape, or form a date. But the light that glinted in his eyes at your acceptance of his offer made those butterflies return and you swore you were going to have a talk with your hormones as soon as you got home. Arthur nodded and backed into the door, hitting it with his elbow.

"Saturday for lunch." He said, the smile on his face contagious. You laughed and turned toward your apartment, offering him a wave over your shoulder. 

"Goodnight, Arthur." 

"Goodnight."

When you made your way into your own apartment, pausing to shut the door and hang your purse on the hook beside it, you sighed. What were you doing? You knew damn well that he was going to read far too much into lunch, that he would see it as a date, but you couldn't resist, could you? Groaning, you turned to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of wine out of your fridge. 

There was no way you could let him even think about paying for your meal Saturday, no way you could let him think it's a date. Because if he thought it was, you'd start convincing yourself the same and you weren't prepared to get involved with someone like him.

No matter how many butterflies he gave you. 

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and comments!! They mean so much to me!
> 
> If you're wondering what kind of Arthur I'm going for here, think of the sweet, soft spoken Arthur when he was talking to Hoyt, his boss at HaHas. 
> 
> So precious and sweet I just wanna eat him up!

* * *

Friday night at work, you were surprised when a group of coworkers invited you out to join them at a local bar. It was the first time you had been out with other people since moving to Gotham and you accepted their offer before even thinking it through. Then again, your night would have consisted of buying junk food and staying up late reading trashy romance novels. This was much better. At least it made you socialize. 

You didn't have a change of clothes with you, but neither did any of the others and you, dressed in your stiff, unflattering scrubs, followed the group downtown to a quaint little bar. It was a hole in the wall place with peanut shells littering the floor and smoke lingering in the air, but you were definitely not choosy. It was nice to just _ be out _ with other people. 

"Do you drink?" One of the girls turned to you, flashing a friendly smile. 

"Sometimes, yeah. I'm a social drinker." 

"Oh, good! Let's get a beer." She looped her arm around yours and steered you to the long stretch of bar going down one side of the room. You didn't have the heart to tell her you weren't much of a _ beer _ drinker. Her name was Angela and she was one of those girls who didn't know how gorgeous they were. Or at least, pretended not to know. 

She brushed her hair away from her shoulder and flashed a bright smile to the bartender who, despite a group of men who had been there first, came right over. She ordered for you and you let her. When the bartender stepped away to grab the beer bottles, Angela turned to face you. 

"So, what do you think of Josh?" 

Her question surprised you and you turned to where the group of your coworkers stood a few stools down. The tallest, a guy you'd seen a few times around the hall of the nursing home, was laughing with the others. You considered your answer. He was cute, in a boyish way. A bit too tall for your taste. With a shrug, you turned to face Angela once more. 

"He's cute."

"Isn't he? If I wasn't engaged I would so jump on that." The two of you shared a giggle and as she walked ahead of you to head back to the group, you frowned. Had that been inappropriate? Or were you just that out of touch with social norms these days? 

By the time you both rejoined the group, you took a sip of your beer and tried not to cringe at the taste. For half an hour or so, you stood at the edge of the circle, not offering much in the way of conversation. You had only drank a little over half the beer and stared down into it as a few girls broke off to join the small dancing crowd. 

Angela lingered behind, sitting on the stool between you and Josh. She turned to you with a wink and hopped off. "I'm going to go to the ladies room." 

You stared at her as she passed in front of you, not sure if you should spare yourself the awkwardness and go with her, or stick around. It was clear she thought you and this guy should talk more. 

"How long have you lived in the city?" He asked, turning your attention up to him. 

"Only a few months. You?"

"All my life," he beamed proudly. You could tell by his accent, which you'd never admit to actually disliking it. He turned to set his beer bottle on the bar behind your elbow. "So, you married? Got any kids?"

"Nope, and no."

"Yeah, me neither. I'm trying to save up money while I'm in school. Can't do that with kids, you know?" He smiled and you nodded. Was this how Arthur feels when you talked to him? The awkwardness was strange and you weren't used to it. 

You were by no means the kind of girl who could easily go out and get any guy you wanted. But you had never really had much trouble finding a willing guy to flirt with. This was painful and as much as he smiled and leaned closer to you, you just weren't feeling it. But maybe it was the beer that wasn't quite sitting well in your stomach. 

You brushed your hair over your shoulder, the same way Angela had and smiled up at him. If he was interested in you, then you would just have to ignore this awkwardness and try to flirt back. 

"What are you in school for?"

He took a deep breath and raked his fingers through his shaggy, blond hair. "Business management. My dad manages a bank downtown and wants me to take over one day."

You nodded and looked down into the bottle of beer. God, it tasted even worse when it got warm. 

"What about you? Got any big plans for the future?"

You looked up at him and shook your head. "Nope. I'm just working for now."

Josh reached over and tucked your hair behind you ear, a goofy smile on his face. You had to stop yourself from laughing at his attempts to woo you. 

"Ah, don't worry. You'll find something better soon."

All desire to laugh vanished and you frowned. "I don't want anything better. I like my job."

"You wanna dance?" He asked, leaning closer toward you so he could talk over the music that started up. "Or maybe go back to my place?"

The feel of his hand falling to your thigh pulled your attention down and you scoffed. Was he seriously putting _ these _moves on you so soon? He must have been drunk or delusional. 

While it had been a while, probably a year, since you had actually slept with someone else, and you knew after all the stress of moving and working, you could use a quick fuck session. But the headache it would bring at work wasn't worth it. You shook your head and set your beer bottle down on the bar beside his. 

"I have an early morning um...dentist appointment, so I should probably head home before it gets too late."

"They have dentist appointments on Saturday?" Josh asked, watching you slide off the stool and turn to the door. You gave him a nod and told him to tell the others you said goodbye before walking out the door. Once you were outside, you took a breath and slowly let it out. 

If this was what the dating scene was like these days, you definitely weren't ready yet. Even after being single for two years, the thought of going out on the weekends, hoping to meet a guy good enough to take back home sounded exhausting. What was the point? All guys wanted was one thing, and when they stop getting it, they cheat or leave...or both. 

You frowned down at the sidewalk and pushed the angst ridden thoughts from your head. It had been two years. Your heartbreak had healed, why couldn't the damage to your self-esteem start to heal? How long did it take for a person to get over a guy who slept around behind their back for seven months before running off to California with an eighteen year old? 

It shouldn't take _ this _ long, that was for sure. With a sigh, you lifted your head up and stared at the buildings touching the sky around you. Was there anyone in the city that was still a good guy?

.

.

The buzzer went off the next day at ten thirty and you frowned up at the clock hanging in the hallway, slipping your glasses over your face. You padded across the floor and leaned down to look through the peephole and the face you saw made you hiss a curse. Fuck! You'd forgotten about your lunch non-date with Arthur. And he was early for it anyway.

Shaking the stray hair from your face, and wishing you had at least put on clothes instead of your pajamas, you opened the door. "Arthur," you breathed, keeping the majority of your body behind the door.

He'd already seen a pair of your panties. He didn't need to see you wearing tiny shorts and a ratty t-shirt. But as he looked over your hair piled on top of your head and the fact that you clearly weren't dressed, his face fell a bit. 

"Are you sick?"

Wow. Apparently you looked worse than you thought. You stared at him for a moment, a bit stunned that he would assume that. You lifted a hand and smoothed the flyaway hairs back. "No. I just woke up, actually. Are you aware it's ten thirty?"

His eyes went wide for a moment before he ducked his head. You took the moment he wasn't looking at you to study him. He was dressed as he usually was, in a white, checkered button up shirt, tan slacks and that infamous brown jacket over his shoulders that made him look even thinner than he actually was. And just faintly, you could smell cologne mingling with the smell of his shampoo that, much to your frustration, you hadn't been able to get out of your head. 

"I'm sorry. I thought we said we would meet up at eleven."

"I don't think we set a time. But, I'm not very hungry at the moment."

"Okay," he said, lifting his head back up to meet your eyes. You reassured him with a smile and he returned it, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "Want me to come back in an hour?"

You tapped your foot against the floor, out of his line of sight, and took a deep breath. How did he manage to do this every time? He was so shy and timid and every time he spoke to you this way, you couldn't help doing the exact opposite of what you knew you _ should _ do. Just like now.

Taking a step back, you nodded toward your apartment. "You can come in if you don't mind waiting for me to get dressed." 

It was evident by the look of surprise on his face that he hadn't been expecting you to invite him in and honestly, you hadn't expected that either. But you didn't feel like he was a threat. Most guys would try to take advantage of the situation but you could never see Arthur doing anything like that.

As he passed you to step into the doorway, you frowned. Wasn't it always the ones you least expected who _ would _do something like that? 

He stood awkwardly in the foyer and you shut the door, turning to face him with a soft chuckle. "You can sit on the couch. But if you fall asleep, I'm not going to let you stay there." 

"Oh, no, I won't." 

Maybe he didn't get your pathetic attempt at a joke, or maybe you just weren't that funny. Either way, you left him in the living room and turned to make your way back into the bedroom to find something to wear. Something not sexy, not _ date _ approved. Just a simple outfit that you'd wear on a day with your girlfriends. 

You shut the door behind you and quietly twisted the lock. You trusted Arthur, but you weren't stupid. 

After rifling quickly through your closet, you snagged a white turtleneck and a pair of black overalls and topped it off with tennis shoes. Nothing said platonic lunch like overalls and tennis shoes. Then again, would he even know what outfits women wore on dates? 

The guy didn't seem to be popular with the ladies, which was a shame. He seemed nice and would probably treat them better than any other guy out there right now. Of course, they'd probably walk all over a guy like Arthur. 

As you sat on the edge of your bed, tying your shoe, you frowned and hoped that hadn't happened to him in the past. It was obvious he had issues with talking to women, or you at the very least. Had he been stepped on before by an old girlfriend, had his heart broken and self esteem shattered? If so, you could definitely relate. That didn't mean you were going to date him. 

No.

You weren't ready to get back into that scene, especially with a guy like Arthur who was going to need a lot of time and patience, which you weren't sure you had right now. 

You combed your hair back up into a ponytail and applied some mascara and lip gloss, since it was clear you looked gross without a little something. In your reflection, you made sure you looked decent, at least half way, and tucked your shirt into your overalls which looked kind of misshapen now that you were looking at them closely. Ugh, when did these start looking so bad on you? Or, when did you start noticing? 

You crossed back to your closet and found another pair of jeans, nicer and ones that fit better to your body. Before you could take them from the hanger you shook your head and turned to the door. If you started caring about your appearance in front of him, you were going to start putting more of an effort, and that would just lead you to actually wanting to impress him. 

In the hallway outside your bedroom, you swiped your palm across your lips to get rid of the gloss and put on a smile as you stepped back into the living room. "Okay, I'm ready."

You found him standing, instead of sitting on the couch, looking at a picture frame you had hanging on the wall. It was you back home with your mom and dad and your smile faded. Arthur pointed at the figure between your parents and turned to you. 

"Is this you?"

"Yeah," you said, hopefully sounding breezy because you weren't about to explain to him why you hated that picture. "Right after graduation actually."

"High school?" 

"Yeah, I didn't go to college, much to my father's disappointment." 

Arthur stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and nodded. "I never knew my father." 

Ah, shit. You couldn't have this conversation right now, not before breakfast and not this early. Sighing, you pushed a hand over your hair and shrugged helplessly. "I'm really sorry to hear that, but fathers are overrated sometimes. And if we keep talking about this, I'm gonna want to break out a bottle of wine and get drunk. I'd much rather go to lunch with you than do that so," you trailed off turning to face the door. 

After only a split second hesitation, Arthur caught up to you and reached around you to open the door. There was only a slight urge to roll your eyes at his display and mostly out of playfulness. The smile on his face, so pleased with himself for being a gentleman, made you laugh and you stepped out into the hallway. You locked the door behind you and nodded toward his door down the hall. 

"Did Penny not want to join?"

"No, she doesn't like to get out much. I promised I would bring her some food back, though." He shuffled beside you, head hung down and you really wanted to know who the hell made him so self conscious about himself. The hunch of his shoulders, the softness of his voice. You could tell he was scared to be anything more than the way he was now. 

God, why did it break your heart so bad? More importantly, why did you want to help him find confidence in himself? He wasn't some lost little puppy to take care of. He wasn't your responsibility. But you couldn't help yourself and you sighed. 

"That's really sweet of you. You know, she's lucky to have someone who cares about her so much." 

He lifted his head and met your gaze and for just a brief moment, you let yourself actually look at him. His eyes were so green that you weren't sure how you hadn't noticed them before now. The wrinkles on the side of his eyes didn't take anything away from his handsomeness and if anything, only made him more distinguished like the streaks of grey through his hair.

"You think so?" He asked, his voice cutting through your thoughts about how attractive he was. You cleared your throat and stepped into the elevator. 

"Yeah, I do. You're a nice guy, Arthur. I'm glad you're my friend." The emphasis you put on that word, _ friend _, was just a little reminded for him and yourself as well. You'd been so busy trying to make sure he didn't read too much into this that you hadn't done the same for yourself. 

This was not a date.

It was lunch between two _ friends. _

By eleven, you and Arthur made your way into one of the infinite amount of diners around Gotham and took a seat in one of the booths. You slid along the seat and snatched the plastic, sticky menu from the tiny juke box sitting on the table. It looked a little worse for wear but with a push of the button, the pages inside swiped back and forth. 

"You think this still works?" 

Arthur looked at it and let out a small breath of a laugh. "It looks a little sticky." 

You held out your hand on top of the table with your palm up and Arthur blinked down at it. "Do you have a dime?" 

You pretended to be more interested in the list of songs, but when he patted his pockets and looked away from you, you gave in and watched him. He searched his jacket pockets first and then moved onto his pants, finding some change rattling in them. It wasn't fair that he was so sweet. The corner of your lips curled and you turned back to the song list, choosing an old Elvis song. 

Arthur placed the dime in your palm and you blinked. "God, your hands are like ice!"

He quickly pulled them back and dropped them into his lap beneath the table. The look on his face instantly made you want to kick yourself for being so rude. You put the dime in the juke box and selected the song with one hand while reaching toward him with the other. He looked from your hand to your face and the space between his brow creased. 

"Give me your hands." 

He laughed softly and shook his head. "They're always cold. It's okay. I'll try to warm them up." 

You flexed your fingers back and forth in a 'give me' kind of motion. "I'll warm them for you." 

Like you said, you just couldn't help yourself when it came to him. And when he hesitantly lifted his hands on top of the table, you gave him a smile before taking them. You pressed them together and rubbed them with yours, hoping the friction gave him a little warmth. The tops of his cheeks turned red and his smile was slow to stretch across his mouth. 

"Better?" You asked, letting him go. He pulled his hands back to his side of the table and nodded. 

"Yes."

"Good. Now mine are cold so I'm going to order a coffee and maybe the hamburger. What about you?" 

"Oh, I'm not hungry."

You stared at him, unblinking. "You invited me to lunch and you're not going to eat?" 

He shrugged a shoulder and watched as you slid the menu across the table to him. He looked down at it and you wondered if his meds made his appetite vanish, or if it was something else. Did he think he was fat? As much as Penny talked about gaining weight, she may have given him a complex. 

"I'll just have the same."

It wasn't long before the waitress finally made her way to your table and took your orders, which were exactly the same. As she left to turn the order into the cooks, you glanced around the diner. There were mostly people who looked either strung out or down on their luck, wanting a cheap, hot meal. 

Feeling Arthur's eyes on you, you turned back to face him and indeed, caught him staring. He didn't try to hide it this time and you felt your own face growing pink. 

You ducked your head and occupied your fingers with twisting your napkin. "So, Arthur, do you have a girlfriend?"

Ah, you don't know why you asked it. One, you knew the answer, and two, you didn't want him getting any ideas that you could fill that role for him. Your eyes lifted to his and he shook his head. 

"No. I don't. I…" he trailed off and turned to look out the dingy window to his left. After a moment, he took a breath and let it out. "I don't really date. Never have."

"Ever?"

He shook his head and your eyebrow arched. This complicated things more. You wanted to ask him if _ ever _ meant at all, ever, in his entire life, or just recently after a particularly bad relationship. Because you didn't know what to think if it was the former. First of all, it didn't seem possible. He was so...nice. 

But painfully shy and if you had never practically pushed your way into his life, he'd probably never have spoken to you. You bit the inside of your lip. Before you could say anything, the waitress set two coffees down in front of you and then two plates of food. 

That had been suspiciously fast service and you wondered how long these fries had been sitting under a heat lamp. You decided not to question it and popped one into your mouth. It was way saltier than you expected and you regretted choosing coffee as your only choice to drink. 

After flagging down the waitress for a glass of water, you ate while Arthur..._ picked _ at his food. He would eat one fry for every ten you consumed and he didn't even touch his hamburger. By the time yours was half gone, you sat back and looked at him. 

"You're going to make me insecure if I eat like this while you barely touch yours." 

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you insecure." He sat up closer to the table but didn't make a move to eat more. "I just don't eat much."

"I can tell."

God, what was wrong with you? Why were you constantly saying the wrong things? You winced at the look he gave you, the pitiful look that let you know instantly that his thin frame was a source of insecurity for him. 

"I'm sorry," you said quickly, wanting to reach across the table to take his hand again. You didn't. "I truly didn't mean it the way I said it. Sometimes I say things before thinking and I don't mean to."

He smiled and waved you off, but you knew he was just trying to be polite about it. You'd hurt him by doing the exact same thing you told him not to do to you and god damn did it make you full of deep regret. 

"It's fine. I know what you mean. I think I have the opposite problem."

"You think things before saying them?" 

He scoffed but nodded. "I over think them and then convince myself not to say them."

You picked up another French fry and dipped it into the puddle of ketchup you had made. "That's smart. I hope you can rub off on me."

His laughter was immediate and you looked up at him pressing a hand to his mouth to hold it in. He swallowed tightly and squeezed his eyes shut and you felt your lips curl up into a sly smile. Okay, so he was shy with a dirty mind? You could be on board with that. 

You tossed the half eaten fry at him and he attempted to catch it before it hit his chest and bounced to the floor. "I see how you are now. Pretend to be all coy and shy but really, you've got a dirty mind in there." 

"I didn't say anything," he said, holding his hands up in surrender. 

"No, but you were definitely thinking it." And if you were being honest with yourself, you'd admit that you had been thinking it too. Not so obviously, but in the darker corners of your mind where you kept thoughts like that, thoughts that belonged in the gutter. "I'm onto you, Arthur Fleck."

Again, his face blushed and he ducked his head to hide the smile on his face. If you could just get him to keep eye contact when you said things like that, you were certain he'd be able to get a little bit of confidence. Just enough to know that he had no reason to be shy around you or self conscious. Because let's face it.

It was time to be honest with yourself about things. You liked Arthur.

As a friend. 

Nothing more. 

And this was definitely not a date. 

But as far as non-dates went, this had been one of the best you'd ever been on, despite the awkward pauses and silences. His company was more enjoyable than most of the guys you'd met in the past. 

He requested a to-go box from the waitress for his uneaten hamburger that he would give to his mother and after you both paid, separately, you slid out of the booth to stand to your feet. You turned to him and for just a split second, the urge to reach out for his hand washed through you. 

You crossed your arms over your chest to keep yourself from doing something as rash as that. You may not be able to keep your mouth from saying stupid things, but you'd make damn sure to keep your body from doing stupid things. The two of you left the diner and with the styrofoam left over box in his hands, Arthur walked with his head down. 

What was it going to take to get this man some confidence? It wasn't going to be easy. Not in the slightest and you sighed, lifting your face up to the sky. 

"What?" He asked, making you turn toward him. 

"I didn't say anything."

"No...but you sighed."

"I was just thinking." You shook your head, wishing you would just shut up already. "About what you told me in there."

He didn't respond but you could tell that he tensed up just at the mention of it. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "What about it?"

"I don't see how it's possible for you to have never had a girlfriend." He sighed and you continued before he could change the subject. "Because you're really nice and thoughtful. It just makes no sense."

"They think I'm weird." 

You blinked. "Who?" 

He lifted his head and shrugged as he let out a long, exhausted breath. When he cut his eyes to meet yours, you stopped mid step. "Everyone," he said quietly but you had heard him. 

"You're not weird, Arthur. Or at least," you pause and gestured around at the other people on the sidewalk. "No weirder than anyone else."

He nodded, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn't quite believe you. It nearly broke your heart. You watched him dig into his jacket pocket and pull out a pack of cigarettes. 

"Do you care if I smoke?"

You threw your hands up in the air beside you and let out a dramatic groan. His eyebrows went up and he started to put the pack back in his pocket until you reached out and stopped him with a hand around his arm. "No, I don't care, but you see? No one ever asks like that anymore. They just _ do it _. You're actually nice enough that you consider my wishes first? That isn't weird. That's nice. Thank you for asking." 

When you stepped away from him, he continued staring at you, as if he didn't quite know how to process what you had said. He glanced down to the spot on his arm you had grabbed before looking back up at you. 

With a laugh, you threw caution to the wind and hooked your arm around his elbow to steer him back on track. "Come on. I'm sure your mom is wondering where her food is. Sorry about my outburst."

"No, it's fine." He brought a cigarette to his lips and held the lighter beneath it. He took a drag and blew the smoke out, away from you. "I liked it."

"Good."

_ Fuck _. 

Against all odds and despite how much effort you put into _ not _liking him, there was no point in denying it. You liked the guy. But that didn't mean you were going to date him, no matter how many hints Penny practically laid out in front of you. 

You just weren't ready for that.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is a very eager pupil. :)

* * *

You had spent your morning with Penny, helping her send out another letter addressed to Thomas Wayne, and doing some light cleaning around the house. You weren't sure what her obsession with that man was about, but you didn't question it. She was old, set in her ways.

In some ways, she reminded you of an elderly woman in the nursing home you worked at. This particular woman was fixated on a stuffed toy cat that some little girl had left behind in the lobby nearly two years earlier. But, the woman had found it, convinced herself it was a real cat, and she sat with it on her lap every day. And one could convince her otherwise and you knew Penny was a lot like that. 

Those letters to Thomas Wayne were her stuffed cat. 

So, you let her have it and did as she asked, taking them to the mail slot every morning that you stayed with her. That day, you had gotten there just in time to see Arthur disappearing into the elevator and though you didn't let yourself admit it, you were disappointed you hadn't had a chance to say hello. 

It was unlikely you'd see him before having to go in to work either, which meant you would have to wait until tomorrow evening just to talk to him. Which was fine. It's not like you had anything in particular to talk to him about. Just some company from someone who wasn't over the age of 65. 

You straightened the living room while Penny sat on the bed in her room. She had been showing off what little jewelry she had to you and you could see her getting nostalgic over the treasures she kept for herself in the drawers of her dressing table. You left her alone to finish vacuuming the living area. She didn't seem to even notice you were gone, or the noise from the vacuum you ran over the carpet.

As you dipped the vacuum under the couch, it sucked up something and made the worst noise. Cursing softly to yourself, you dropped to your knees to investigate. And when you pulled the nozzle out, it had a magazine stuck to it. A _ dirty _ magazine. 

The woman on the front cover was completely naked and the suction on the vacuum had done a good job wrinkling it. You pulled it free and smoothed it back out, the corner of your lips curling upward as you took a curious peek inside. 

"Oh, my," you whispered, flipping through the endless pictures of various naked women in various situations. Some of the pictures were cut out, some drawn on, and you laughed at the clown face Arthur had scribbled on one of the very few men in the magazine. 

In the margin of one page, something was written, scribbled quickly in pen with haste judging by the smudged edges of the words. You turned your head and read the words. _ Do they like that? _ You looked to the picture next to it and put a hand to your mouth.

A man was between the woman's legs, tongue right along her center and she had a look on her face that should have answered Arthur's question. You bit your lip to hide a giggle and closed the magazine before pushing it back under the couch. 

"Arthur Fleck, you dirty boy." You stood to your feet and took hold of the vacuum once more. Behind you, Penny shuffled into the room and you made sure the magazine was concealed beneath the couch. 

"Did you say something dear?" 

"Oh, I thought I caught a loose quarter in the vacuum. It was just my imagination." 

"Alright, when you're finished in here, I can show you the rest of my things." 

_ Great, _ you thought, turning the vacuum back on with a tap of your foot. You swiped it across the rug and carpet and once Penny had turned back around to move into her room again, you let yourself grin. 

Oh, Arthur. It was adorable how clueless and curious he was. Someone really needed to show him exactly what a woman liked. 

.

.

You were _ exhausted _ when Thursday rolled around and you trudged down the hallway of the apartment building while trying to think of excuses to give Ms. Fleck to avoid sitting with her. She would never know if you were truly sick or not. You could tell her anything and she would believe it. Even if that would make you feel like a bad person for lying to an elderly woman.

But you had been sat on, hit in the face with food, and your toes had been rolled over by a man in a wheelchair, hell bent on making a break for the front door of the nursing home. And to say you were tired, was an understatement. You were ill, as well. Irritated at everything and anything and you knew that probably had to do with your upcoming period that was scheduled to appear next week.

Listening to Ms. Fleck talk about Thomas Wayne, or how sweet Arthur was, just didn’t sound like what you wanted to do for the next few hours. You wanted to eat something unhealthy, take a piping hot shower, and curl into bed early, maybe nurse a glass or two of wine. Standing in the hallway, you glanced from your door, down to the Fleck’s front door and sighed.

You pocketed your keys and turned away from your door. A few weeks ago, Arthur had given you a spare key to their apartment and while you were glad they trusted you with that, you didn’t know if you liked having it. On one hand, it made it far too easy for you to just pop in, and you’d been trying to keep your distance from them.

You tried to convince yourself it was because you were tired of them, but that wasn’t the truth. Well, not the whole truth anyway. You hardly ever got to spend any time talking to him. Not counting the lunch the two of you shared Saturday, you’d barely said two words to him the entire week. 

It bothered you that you missed him. 

And finding his nudie magazine didn’t count, as enjoyable as that had been. You promised yourself you wouldn’t bring it up with him, not wanting to embarrass him, but you had to face the facts. It was just too much fun making him blush, and you were _ damn _ curious about the notes he had written in the margins.

Did his questions mean he was inexperienced? 

The thought brought a smile to your lips and you slid the key into the lock and twisted it. Ms. Fleck was exactly where she usually was, sitting on the chair, watching television. She lifted her head and greeted you with a warm smile as you draped your purse and sweater over the hooks near the door.

“Oh, you’re just in time to watch the news.” She sounded as if she truly thought you would enjoy that. Before you shut the door, you pointed over your shoulder. 

“I’m going to change real quick and pick up some stuff from my fridge for dinner tonight.” 

“Hurry back!” She called after you.

You took your time, not out of spite, but because as soon as you walked into your bedroom, you couldn’t resist flopping back onto the mattress. The soles of your feet were aching and you winced as you peeled your shoes off and dropped them to the floor. Next to come down were your pants and for several seconds, you laid there, staring up at the ceiling, half naked. 

You tried not to think back to Arthur, or his magazine full of questions. But you couldn’t help it. Was he a virgin? A month ago, you would have laughed at that thought and brushed it away. Now, the more you thought about it, the more it made perfect sense. No wonder he was so shy around you. 

Poor guy had never even made it to first base more than likely. 

You giggled and lifted yourself from the bed, grabbing an oversized sweatshirt and leggings from your dresser drawers. The front of the sweatshirt was peeling, but you could still see the logo from the amusement park where your parents had taken you for your seventeenth birthday. One of the last happy memories you could remember.

The thought wiped the smile from your face and you sighed, pulling the faded, gray fabric down around your waist. You slipped your feet into some house shoes and made your way into the kitchen to grab the carton of eggs that you had planned to use for dinner. 

When you reached Penny’s apartment once more, she ushered you inside and mentioned the latest breaking story about a murder in Gotham Village, which wasn’t surprising. Murders happened all over the city constantly. This one was particularly gruesome and Penny looked at you as you moved into the kitchen.

“You need to be careful in this city. You’re a pretty girl and there are so many evil men who would snatch you up.” 

You smiled and ducked your head to peer into their fridge. You didn’t want to tell her you weren’t _ that _ pretty. Men hardly glanced your way outside of the bars where the alcohol was free flowing and if no one had attacked you in this part of town yet, you figured you were relatively safe. 

Dinner didn’t take too long. You had warmed her up a slice of leftover meatloaf that you had made the night before, with a boiled egg and some corn. She didn’t seem to hate it when you presented it to her, and you took that as a win. So far, she was pretty picky. Meals were usually a hit or miss with her and when you had a hit, you tried to save as much as possible.

As you cleaned up the mess, you noticed Arthur hadn’t eaten the portion you had saved for him and sighed. If anything, you were going to get him to eat more by the end of this friendship, or whatever it was going on between the two of you. 

You took a slice of the meatloaf and warmed it in the microwave before scooping a spoonful of corn onto your own plate. Together, you and Penny ate in the living room while the evening news played the stories of the day. It was all depressing and you didn’t know how she could sit there and watch it each night.

When it ended, she seemed almost disappointed, as if she had been waiting for a particular story or someone to come on. You took her plate, rinsed it and settled back onto the couch while she complained about the program coming on afterward. It was some comedy show about the deep south and everyone’s accents were over the top. 

“It just isn’t very funny,” she said with a sigh, folding her arms across her lap. 

“Want me to find something else?” 

Before she could answer, the front door knob twisted and the both of you turned to see it push open. You bit hard at the inside of your cheek and looked away from Arthur, fighting against the butterflies fluttering rampant against your stomach. Nope. Not happening again tonight. 

“Hey,” he breathed, pulling the zipper of his coat down to his waist. On the edge of his face, just along his jawline, you could see a white smear of paint and it made you clamp harder against your cheek. 

“Happy, did you check the mail?”

“Nothing, Mom.” He pushed his hands through his hair as he moved into the living room, glancing to the television. “I thought you hated this show.”

“I do.”

You took that as your cue to get up and turn the station. You knelt down and twisted the dial, turning to her while waiting for her approval. She shook her head and you twisted it to the next station. Behind you, Arthur crossed into the kitchen and you could hear the rustling of a paper bag on the counter. 

“Oh, isn’t that pretty?” Penny said, tilting her head to get a better look at the necklace being sold on the screen. You figured she would be distracted for a minute and you stood to your feet to make your way into the kitchen. 

Arthur glanced up at you as you leaned against the doorway and you smiled at him. “There’s some leftover dinner in the fridge. Want me to warm it up for you?” 

He dumped whatever he had been sorting through back in the bag and you glanced down at it. The white bag had a pharmacy’s logo written on the side and you quickly looked back up to find him shaking his head with a hand raking through his hair. “No, that’s alright, I’m not hungry. I’m going to take a shower.”

Without another word, or even a smile, he took the bag with him and left you alone where you stood. Unsure what to do, or if you somehow had made him mad, you blinked and stared at the window across the room from you. From her armchair, Penny called your name and after a moment of hesitation, you leaned back to look at her.

“Come look at these rings. They’re so fancy.” 

You wanted to tell her they were cheap and only made to attract people into spending far too much money on them. You didn’t say anything and once more moved to the television. “Want me to find a show for you?”

Another round of flipping through the channels, you landed back on the one she claimed to hate and you made your way back to the couch. Usually, you would gather your things and start making your way out the door, but something bugged you tonight. Why had he been in such a bad mood?

Did he have a bad day?

Was he mad at you?

Most importantly, why did it bother you so badly? You crossed your arms over your chest and sat back against the cushion, trying not to focus on the sound of the water in the bathroom. And when it shut off, ten minutes later, you definitely ignored the next wave of butterflies. Penny yawned and you glanced to her, finding her pulling her blanket up around her shoulders.

“Is it cold in here to you?”

“Not really.”

She sighed and seemed a little restless in her chair. You could have asked her if there was something she needed or wanted, but she was the furthest thing from your mind because at that moment, the door to the bathroom opened. Steam poured out around the floor boards and crept around the entrance to the hallway, drawing your eyes toward it. 

Arthur stepped around the corner and you swallowed the squeak that you could feel pressing against your throat. He was in those same, baggy comfy pants you’d seen him in a number of times before, but now...he was shirtless. You tilted your head down and stared at him through the top of your glasses.

The look of surprise he gave you as he came around the corner told you he hadn’t expected you to still be on the couch, or even in the apartment. He hesitated and took a tiny step back, as if he were going to find a shirt to put on, but you smiled and he decided against it. 

God, he was thin. 

In a morbid way, it suited him, and you found your gaze being drawn down to the shape of his bones pressing beneath his skin. Despite having next to no fat on him, his muscles were still defined and you couldn’t help but notice the bulge around his biceps. 

You knew exactly what to say as he crossed into the kitchen and out of your sight. You should have said, ‘_ well, it’s past my bedtime, I should probably head home _’. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You just sat there, staring at the television while Penny pulled the blankets tighter around her chin. 

“I think I’m ready for bed,” she said softly, making you hold back a frown. It was only eight thirty. Usually, she stayed up until at least ten to watch that late night talk show she and Arthur watched religiously. You didn’t get it, but then again, you didn’t have a television. If you did, you might find something you liked just as much. What you weren’t too happy about was the fact that as soon as she went to bed, you had no other purpose in this apartment.

You’d be forced to leave and for some reason, you didn’t want to.

Of course, that _ some reason _ was currently standing in the kitchen, conveniently away from the large opening so you couldn’t see him. Was he hiding from you? 

Penny took the blanket from her legs and draped it over the back of the chair and you helped her to her feet. You were glad that her ankle was healing finally, but you hoped that didn’t convince her not to keep you around. She patted your shoulder and gave you a small smile. “Thank you, dear.”

She shuffled into the hallway and paused long enough to tell Arthur good night. It took her a moment, still on wobbling feet but walking well enough on her own again, but all too soon, her door slid to a narrow crack and you had no other choice but to head back to your apartment as well. 

You folded her blanket and picked up the cup of water she had been drinking from. As you turned back to face the kitchen, you hesitated and stared at the opening where Arthur should have been. What in the world was he doing?

Squaring your shoulders, you crossed the floor and turned the corner. He was where he had been standing before but where the pharmacy bag had been sitting was a spiral bound notebook. He was writing on the page with a felt tip pen and when you stepped into the room, his back stiffened and he shut it.

“Sorry,” you mumbled quietly, moving around him to the sink. He sniffed and scrubbed his hand over his mouth and chin. His foot tapped anxiously against the floor and you looked down at the cup you were supposed to be washing. It wasn’t even anywhere near the water and you quickly rinsed it out. Unable to take it anymore, you turned to him and smiled. “Are you alright?”

He nodded slowly, still not looking at you. “It’s just been a long day.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. Do you need anything before I go?”

At this, Arthur lifted his head and met your eyes and you felt the sudden urge to wrap your arms around him. He looked so sad, so miserable, and in desperate need of a hug. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were..._scared_, for some reason. You didn’t know why. Possibly because he was shirtless and you didn’t know how to react to actually touching his skin.

He sighed again and brushed the hair from his face. “No, I don’t need anything.”

The disappointment you felt was annoying and you gave him a nod before crossing behind him and out of the kitchen. You reached for your purse and heard him push the notebook across the counter. He turned to face you and you glanced back at him from over your shoulder.

“You don’t have to leave,” he said, his voice nearly a whisper. “If you don’t want to.”

That was a dangerous add on. _ If you don’t want to _ . Staying would mean you _ didn’t _ want to leave, and you weren’t sure you were ready for him to think that you wanted to stay. You dropped your hand to your side and raised an eyebrow. “I’ll stay, if _ you _ want me to stay.”

“I do.” There was no shy duck of his head, no blush across his cheeks this time. He held your gaze in his and you couldn’t remember a time when he looked at you like this. It was unnerving and a little alarming and you didn’t want to admit it, but exciting as well. Oh, the butterflies were going crazy. 

Still caught in a daze, you felt yourself nod and turned back to face him. “Okay, I’ll stay.” You put your hands on your hips and glanced back into the living room. “You want to watch TV?”

Whether he wanted to or not, there was little else _ to do _ and you found yourself sitting in your usual spot on their couch, right where his pillow sat. You had pushed it to the side and he took a seat on the other end. The lamp in the living room was off and the only light in the entire apartment came from the kitchen, which along with the television screen, cast a blue glow over the place. 

Neither of you paid any attention to the tv and even though you were staring right at it, you had no idea what was even on or happening. All you were aware of was that Arthur was still shirtless, practically leaning over the edge of the couch away from you, and that you were doing the exact same. It’s like you were scared of inching any closer to him, like he was going to hurt you?

No, you knew he wouldn’t do that.

Then what was it?

You couldn’t help but recall how confident you were the day before about teasing him about his choice in magazines. Yet now, you were only hyper aware that it existed, sitting beneath the couch and burning up through the springs and cushions reminding you that it was there. How were you supposed to bring that up and make him blush about it when he was sitting there, staring at the tv screen as if he could make it explode with his mind.

You wondered if he would get mad that you saw it if you mentioned it to him. He didn’t hide it very well. Anyone who could get down on the floor could find it. Then again, who else did he have to hide it from? It wasn’t as though Penny made a habit of crawling around the floor, looking beneath the furniture.

A few minutes passed and you noticed out of the corner of your eye that he was staring at you. You tried to ignore it, thinking he would give up and go back to glaring at the screen, but he didn’t. Time ticked by, the seconds stretched on, and he was _ still _ staring at you. Your face burned under his scrutiny and you finally allowed yourself to turn and look at him. 

He didn’t even attempt to look away. 

You shifted your eyes around the room and let out a nervous bubble of laughter. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” he said softly, finally turning away from you. He reached for the pack of cigarettes on the table and plucked one from the inside. You watched him light it, inhale a deep breath and blow it out his nose. What the hell? Why had that been so attractive? Arthur tossed the lighter onto the table and sat back again, his leg bouncing so fast it was making _ you _ nervous. “I just…” he scratched at his eyebrow and winced, as if his words physically pained him. In a whisper, he finished his thought. “I think you’re pretty.”

Your heart beat doubled and you ducked your head with a little laugh that came from the ball of nerves in your stomach. What the hell was happening? You were supposed to make him blush and giggle, not the other way around. Where was the shy Arthur you were used to? 

He was still shy now, painfully so, but there was something else as well. Something you..._ liked _. You licked your lips and lifted your face to look at him. “Thank you. That’s the second time someone in this house has complimented me today.” You pulled your feet up beneath you. “You better be careful or I’ll get a big head.”

Finally, he laughed. It was soft and it made his eyebrows lift slightly and you felt the awkwardness lift between you. If awkward was even what it was. You weren’t too sure what had made you feel so tense and timid. 

He took another drag and you watched the smoke blow from his lips and swirl into the glow of the kitchen light. You didn’t smoke, but watching him do it was very tempting, though you were sure you wouldn’t look as good as he did. He reached down and gripped the leg that was bouncing, giving it a quick squeeze and it slowed to a stop.

Your eyes lifted to his and you bit your tongue to keep from speaking. It didn’t work. Nothing ever worked and you could only hope that he didn’t get offended by what you were intending to ask him. 

“Can I ask you something?” He turned and looked at you, not offering a smile and you cleared your throat, shifting on the couch so you were facing him with your feet tucked beneath you. “The other day, when you said you never dated…” Your face burned and you wished you had just shut up when you had the chance. There was no turning back now. “Does that mean you’ve never had sex?”

For several seconds, neither of you said a thing, or moved, or possibly even breathed. He stared at you, lips parted and the glow of his cigarette burning away at the paper almost distracting you. As a small bundle of ash fell against the couch, you cleared your throat and shook your head. 

“I’m sorry, that was extremely inappropriate of me. You don’t have to answer, I was just curious after what you had said and I found a magazine under the couch when I was vacuuming, not that I was looking at it or anything and I’m rambling, so I’ll just shut up now.” You sucked in a deep breath and wondered how far you could get if you just ran for it right now.

Would he even try to stop you?

You wouldn’t, if you were in his position. Biting your lower lip, you traced the patterns of the couch cushion with your fingers while waiting for him to recover from your intrusive question. Even if he didn’t answer, you wouldn’t be offended. 

You heard him breathe in another drag from the cigarette and blow it out. He shifted on his side of the couch and let out a nervous trickle of laughter that you found both endearing and sad. He was cornered. He could always lie to you, but you would know. He didn’t seem like a very good liar.

“Um,” he whispered, dusting the fallen ashes from the arm of the couch. “Yeah? I guess that’s what it means.”

Oh, god.

You had expected it, but you still weren’t prepared to hear it. He was a virgin. But...how much of a virgin? 

“You haven’t done anything?”

He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, ducking his head between his arms and you bit your lip. Shit. Why couldn’t you just shut up? 

“Because, it’s not anything to be ashamed of. I was just...curious. You don’t have to answer me.”

The sounds from the television filled the silence between you and you were thankful that it was still on. At least it was _ something _ to listen to other than your breath and the sound of your pulse pounding in your ears. Arthur scrubbed his hand over his face and your mouth curled into a half smile. 

“Some things,” he mumbled, quickly taking another drag of his cigarette. It was growing shorter and you suspected that he would grab another one as soon as it was out. Hell, you might even grab for one as well. “Not much.”

You nodded, though he wasn’t looking your way and tucked your knees up to your chest. After a minute, when he didn’t respond with anything else, you reached out with a foot and nudged him in the thigh. He looked from your toes to you and away quickly, as if he were too embarrassed to meet your eyes. 

“I think it’s cute.” 

He scoffed and sat back finally, letting his head fall against the back of the couch. You weren’t prepared for the sight of his side profile from this angle and you couldn't help but to stare. He swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, pulling your attention to the stretch of his throat. 

“I also don’t know how it’s possible," you said quietly, and honestly. 

He brought the cigarette back to his lips and took a deep breath, nearly burning the rest of it in one go. When he blew it out, he tilted his head to the side to look at you. “I told you. People think I’m weird and they always have.”

“Some people like weird.” You weren’t sure why you couldn’t find your voice enough to speak over a whisper. Feeling warmth spread across your face, you lowered your head and touched your forehead to your knees. It took a few seconds to steady your breath and when you felt your pulse returning to normal, you lifted your head, adjusted your glasses and found him staring at you. It made the corner of your lips lift and just when you had gotten it back at a steady pace, your heart raced all over again. “I could help you. If you want.”

“How?” 

The rasp of his voice, barely a whisper, barely heard over the commercial playing on the television, made a shiver roll down your spine and through your body until it settled into your stomach. The butterflies he had once given you had settled, but in their place was something different and you didn’t know how long you could blame the rage of hormones inside you.

You lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Teach you,” you whispered back, cutting your eyes away from him. The way he was looking at you was too intense. “Show you what to do so you don’t feel embarrassed about it. I could make you an expert for the lucky girl who walks into your life.”

He raised his head off the back of the couch but didn’t look at you, just kept his gaze on the television screen. The more time that passed between your suggestion and his answer made your nerves double with every second. You took your bottom lip between your teeth and squeezed, hoping the pain distracted from the tension building in your belly. 

Thankfully, his mouth stretched into a smile and he laughed, softly at first but it soon grew into a full out belly acher, and your feelings were stung. You pursed your lips and glared at him. “A simple no would have been fine, you know?”

You were two seconds away from storming out of the apartment altogether. Before you could, he put a hand over his mouth and shook his head. His hand moved to his throat and he sucked in a breath, leaning forward to drop his chin down to his chest. The laughter subsided and he took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

You didn’t find it very funny and you crossed your arms over your chest, allowing him to catch his breath before he explained himself. Sure enough, he reached to the pack of cigarettes and plucked out another one.

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I have a condition.”

Your eyebrows lifted to your hairline. Shit, you’d heard Penny talk about it in the past few weeks, but thought she was just saying things. In your defense, she only mentioned it in passing with simple remarks like ‘he can’t help laughing’. You just figured he found stupid things funny, which you could relate to.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Once his cigarette was lit, he looked down at the floor in front of him for a moment with a frown pinching his eyebrows. Slowly, he turned to look at you with a few strands of damp hair falling across his face. “_ How _?” When your eyebrow arched at his question, he elaborated. “How will you show me?”

“Oh.” Your face reddened and you shrugged. “Well, I’m a woman, for one. I know my anatomy and I can explain things you might be curious about. And…” Your throat tightened around the words and you had to look down at the couch, away from him to even say them. “You can _ practice _ on me.”

This silence was different than the others. Even the noise from the television couldn’t break through it and you risked a glance up at him. He blinked at you and slowly brought the cigarette to his lips. You watched them close around the filter and pull in a breath. “You’d let me?”

_ Let _ him.

As if you didn’t _ want _ him to do it. 

You shook that thought from your head and shrugged, hoping you looked blasè and breezy, though you felt anything but. “Why not? I won’t do anything extreme, though, like painful shit.”

“When?”

The words _ right now _ were at the tip of your tongue but you swallowed them back. There was no need to rush this. He was a virgin and probably bursting at the seems to slip his dick into anything wet, but you wanted to help him in the long run. He would never learn anything if you let him come after a few pumps. 

“I mean,” you paused with a shrug. “We can ease into it. No rush. It wouldn’t be _ educational _ to just do it all in one go. Let’s start small.” He didn’t respond, more than likely didn’t know how to. You weren’t sure how you were even responding to his questions. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”

“A few times,” he whispered.

“Okay.” You leaned forward and crawled along the couch to sit closer to him. Your knees touched his thighs and he looked at the short space between you before meeting your gaze again. It was only a distant thought in the back of your mind that his mother was in the next room, possibly asleep, possibly listening to everything you were saying. For some reason, it only added to your excitement, like you were doing something against the rules. Once you were close enough to him, you gave him a nervous smile. "Can I kiss you?" 

Arthur swallowed, the clench of his throat distracting you for a moment. When he didn't respond, you leaned forward and brushed your lips gently against his. He didn't immediately kiss you back but he didn't exactly move away either and you hoped he was just nervous and not disgusted. Either way, you slid your hand to his jaw and turned his face toward you. 

You suspected he might have been lying about kissing a few times, but maybe it had been a long time ago. You smiled against his mouth and angled your head to the side to fit better with him. It seemed to do the trick. 

Very tentatively, he moved his lips, applying a faint amount of pressure back against yours. It surprised you how quickly it turned you on to have him respond to you.

Before it could go much further, you pulled away and brushed the hair from his face, looking up at his closed eyes. "See? That was--" 

He surprised you by closing the distance between you and kissing you again, pushing you back a bit. It was enough to bring him forward and he surprised you once again by guiding you back onto the couch, back to where his pillow laid on the other side. He crawled over you and reached over to the table to drop his cigarette into the ashtray. You spread your hands up his bare sides, exploring his body with soft touches of your finger tips as he laid you back and stretched out over you. 

The smell of cigarettes mingled with the shampoo he used and it made an intoxicating scent that you wanted to linger on your body. Arthur reached up to cup the side of your face and you leaned into his touch. You opened his lips with a gentle urge from your own and surprised him by touching your tongues together. His fingers tightened briefly along your jaw before sliding through your hair and he tangled it into his fist to guide your head to the side. 

You were practically breathless. So consumed by this kiss, you forgot how to breathe, forgot air even existed. Maybe he hadn't been lying before. He certainly kissed as if he were experienced. 

Your legs parted to allow him access between them and you let a whimper rise from your throat into his mouth. Arthur kissed you as if he were starving for it, desperate to taste every atom that your lips were made of and you were powerless to stop him. Perhaps you were starving for something like this as well. 

He made a noise that you felt vibrate through his chest and it instantly turned you on. So much that it reminded you exactly how long it had been since you felt someone else's body weight on yours. It felt good. But then he pushed his hips into yours and you gasped. It was a whole new level of _ good _ because you could feel how hard he already was. 

Fuck, knowing he was turned on as well didn't give you much room to think rationally and you didn't even stop him as he found your breast through your sweater. Your body was too invested now. It refused to stop this. 

He ground himself into you once again, pulling another breath from your lungs that he inhaled into his. Feeling him rub against you, knowing he was just as aroused, if not more so, was making it nearly impossible for you to think beyond your most basic needs, which at the moment, was him. 

But you needed breath and space to clear the sudden fog of desire that had found its way into your head and you broke the kiss to push your head back into his pillow. His breath was warm against your slick lips and you opened your mouth, intending to ask him to stop, but he pushed his hips against yours again, and then again a second and third time in as many seconds and you physically could not speak. 

This wasn't experience. This was primal, something he had been wanting for a long time and you were nothing but a means to an end. He dipped his head to your throat and tasted the salt of sweat starting to bead up along the stretch of skin. The feel of his teeth pinch you made you gasp and writhe, your chest arching up into his and he thrust against you again. 

By now, you were sure you were soaked through to your leggings, possibly to his pajamas as well. There was no way to tell. All you were sure of was that if you didn't stop him now, you were going to let him fuck you every which way he wanted, right there on his couch. 

"A-Arthur," you whispered, eyes fluttering closed as he kissed just beneath your ear, in a spot that never failed to leave you in a puddle. And then he whispered your name, right there, right where you were weakest and you let him continue...at least for another moment. 

He found your lips again and seared them with a kiss that curled your toes and made your head swim. It was far too good of a kiss and you put your hands between the two of you, pushing against your chest. He pulled away, breathless, with his lips pink and damp, and he blinked down at you. 

"What's wrong?" He whispered. 

"Nothing. You're just...a lot better than I was expecting." 

He let out a breath of a laugh and ducked his head, pressing his forehead against your shoulder. You could still feel how hard he was and you knew he was trying so hard to control himself. It was practically written in the tension across his shoulders. 

"But, if we don't stop now, I'm not going to want to." 

"Why do we have to?" To emphasize his words, he ground himself back into you and you bit your lip to quiet your moan. How unfair of him! You hit his arm playfully and scowled up at him. 

"Because I don't have a condom. And I doubt you do as well." 

"I could get one." He kissed the side of your neck and you giggled. Oh, god, you created a monster. A monster who would devour you if you gave him the chance. 

"Hush. I said we needed to start small, and I think this is a good place to start and stop." Because if you didn't stop him, you weren't going to be able to...you weren't going to _ want _ to. He let out a breath against your throat, a sigh of disappointment, and you bit your lip. Even as he started to pull away, lifting his body off yours, you had to fight the need to bring him back down on top of you. 

You sat up on your elbows to watch him reach for the half-smoked cigarette he had dropped into the ashtray. He relit it and you raised up off the couch, sitting closer to him with your arm draped over the back of the couch. You eyed him carefully, watching the smoke slip from his lips. 

"I'm not sure I believe you after that. It's been a while since I've kissed someone but you…" you ducked your head with a blush. "You're good at it." 

"I think about it a lot." 

You got the feeling that _ it _ wasn't just kissing and a jolt of excitement shot through you at the thought of experiencing more with him. He was such an eager and willing learner. Endearing, yet arousing. With a smile, you stood from the couch and he looked up at you with eyes so full of want and desire that it nearly made your knees wobble.

But you had to stay strong and stand your ground on this. Not just because you didn't want to overload him too soon, but because if you let him go as far as he wanted, you weren't going to be able to resist. You were already practically soaked through your panties from letting him get to first base. 

"Walk me out," you said quietly, nodding to the door. He was on his feet in a heartbeat and you laughed softly at his eagerness. Together, you walked to the front door, careful not to touch either. 

It wasn't as if it was awkward. 

It was as if you didn't want to touch him in case you got the temptation to do _ more _ than just touch him. Crossing in front of him, you lifted your eyes to the ceiling and bit your lip. How had you gotten so deep into this so soon? After just a few kisses?

A few, hot, incredibly sexy kisses that would leave you turned on for the next few days…

Arthur reached around you and opened the door as you took your purse and draped it over your shoulder. With the hallway at your back, you turned to face him, intending to tell him goodnight, leave and go home to masturbate, but he looked at you in that way again. The way that made his green eyes turn just a shade darker and you could see all the lust and desire you felt mirrored in them.

He was kissing you before you could even think about stopping him and you didn't care so much now. You were going to need a little _ something _ extra to tide you over and this would definitely do the trick. He held your face with both of his hands and kissed you tenderly and hungrily at the same time. It brought you to the tips of your toes, nearly to his height and you let out a whimper, because there was no way you could resist him. 

His hand slipped from your jaw to your shoulder, pushing the strap of your purse until it fell down the length of your arm. You managed to catch it before it could hit the floor, but it still hit noisily against your thighs. 

"Happy? Did you go out?" Penny's sleepy voice cut through your kiss like a knife and you backed away from Arthur. She was still in the bedroom, and couldn't possibly see the two of you from where you stood, but the moment had been ruined. 

"No, Mom," he said through clenched teeth. You smiled up at the way his eyes were pinched shut and how pink his lips looked. You reached up and brushed your thumb across his bottom lip and he opened his eyes to look down at you. 

"Goodnight," you whispered, not even trying to hide the blush on your face anymore. What was the point? You backed out into the hallway and he leaned his head against the door, watching you go with half-lidded eyes. 

"Goodnight." 

Biting your lip, you turned away and headed down the hall, knowing that he watched you go the entire way. You swore to yourself that you wouldn't look back at him, that you were going to play this cool. But as your key twisted in the lock and you pushed the door open, you couldn't help it. 

He was standing exactly where you left him, staring after you like a little puppy and you hid your giggle by ducking your head and hurrying inside your apartment. 

Damn.

_ Damn. _

How did this happen? 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really, really tried not to make this smutty. I failed.  
But, the next chapter will have the fluff, I promise!   
This is another lengthy one too and I keep telling myself I won't let it get too long and then BAM, 15 pages.

* * *

**Elevator Out of Service - Use stairs!**

  
  


You gripped the laundry basket tighter against your hip and stared at the handwritten note taped to the doors of the elevator. The sign hadn’t been there an hour and a half earlier when you brought all your laundry down to wash it Sunday afternoon. How in the hell had it broke down so quickly? With it being the weekend, there was no hope in it getting repaired anytime soon and you wondered how long you were going to have to traipse up and down six flights of stairs?

On an off day, it was bad enough. After working on your feet for eight or nine hours? It was going to be hell and you let out a sigh of annoyance, adjusting the basket as you turned to the stairwell. Several times, you had to squeeze yourself against the wall to let others pass you and near the fifth floor, a group of rowdy teenagers jumped down the landing, nearly knocking you over.

Your basket tipped and several folded pairs of pants spilled out onto the dirty floor. Did the boys help? Of course not. They simply laughed and continued on, their shouts and laughter echoing as they moved on. You snatched the pants from the floor and shoved them back into the basket while glaring down at them. 

Grumbling about the god-awful living conditions in the building, you finally made it to the sixth floor and stopped on the landing to catch your breath. And as you stood there, half-hidden by the wall, you could see someone standing outside your door.

The sight of Arthur standing there, fumbling with his hands and muttering to himself as if he were preparing to speak made you frown. And then your mouth turned up in a smile. He was psyching himself up to talk to you...or possibly just to knock on your door.

As he raked a hand through his hair, he shook his head and walked back toward his own apartment and you bit your lower lip. It had been three days since the last time you’d seen him and the last time you’d kissed him. Three days wasn’t nearly long enough for you to quite forget exactly how it felt to have him grind between your legs.

And the thought of it now made warmth creep up your face. 

Arthur doubled back and you watched him take a deep breath before lifting his hand to knock on your door. With a smirk tugging at your mouth, you adjusted the basket on your hip and moved toward his direction.

“I don’t think she’s home,” you said.

He turned to face you, his eyes going wide and the smile on his face only made your blush grow hotter. “Oh,” he said, ducking his head to look back down at his hands fumbling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know if you were busy.”

“I’m not.” You stopped a few steps from him and gestured to the laundry basket. “Not anymore at least. Did you know the elevator is broken?”

Arthur glanced over your shoulder to the elevator and shook his head. “No, I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

You laughed and fished your house key from your pocket. “Why are you sorry? Did you break it?” He took a step back as you neared, keeping the distance from you and he let out a soft laugh. 

“No. I’m not sure why I said that.”

The key twisted in the lock and you pushed the door open with a bump of your hip. As you backed into your apartment, you looked at him with a grin. “Because you’re sweet. Did you need something?”

You left him at the door as you moved into your apartment, expecting him to come in behind you. He didn’t, like the polite guy he was, and you shook your head with a chuckle as you dropped the basket on your mattress. From the door, he spoke.

“I was just...coming to see you?” He sounded confused and you caught the tail end of him mumbling something too low for you to hear. He was trying so hard and with any other guy, you would have probably been turned off. With Arthur, everything you expected to find strange was endearing and the things he did that you wouldn’t blink twice at made you blush and swoon. What was wrong with you?

“Arthur, you’re going to have to come in. I can’t hear you.”

You picked up the pants that had fallen from the basket and folded them once more, pausing to listen to him come in. Had he ran away? God, that would have been precious. Before you could duck around the wall to check, you heard him step inside and close the door behind him. He didn’t come in further than the foyer and you shrugged.

No point in pushing him past his limits. Besides, you kind of suspected that he would see the inside of your bedroom eventually. 

“I said, I was just coming to see you.”

“Well, that’s sweet.” You turned to put your clothes into your drawers and once your basket was empty, you placed it on the floor near your closet. You found him standing right inside your apartment, hands clasped in front of him. His head lifted as you came into view and the smile on his face burned your cheeks. 

Together, both of you stood in an awkward silence that you refused to break. He was going to have to say something if he wanted you to speak, and you could tell by the look on his face that he was trying to think of  _ something _ interesting to say. In the end, he sighed and pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

“I can leave if you need me to.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and pursed your lips. How had he been so adventurous when you were kissing him and now acted as if he had never spoken to you before. You’d felt his dick grinding against you for fuck’s sake. Had he regressed that much in three days? 

With a shrug, you leaned against the wall. “If you want to leave, I’m not going to keep you here. Do you want to leave?”

After a moment of hesitation, he shook his head.

“Good. I don’t want you to leave either.”

“You don’t?”

You pushed off the wall and strolled past him into the kitchen area. Everything in your apartment was laid out just like his, except mirrored and you pulled the fridge open to grab a can of soda. When you held it up to offer him one as well, he shook his head politely. 

“Contrary to what you’ve convinced yourself, Arthur, I like talking to you. I like hanging out with you as well. You don’t need a reason to come see me or talk to me.” 

He nodded, but ducked his head and stared down at the floor. “I like talking to you as well.”

You couldn’t help it. There was nothing in the world that would have stopped you from saying what had popped into your head, and you grinned. “Yeah, right. You just like me because I let you put your tongue in my mouth.”

It was mean, but the look on his face as he whipped his head up to meet your eyes was so god damn satisfying it made you laugh. You popped the tab on your soda and turned to make your way into the living room. You didn’t have a television, but you did have a pretty damn cool stereo system and you usually wasted your off days by listening to records. It was a beast of a piece and stretched nearly the length of the wall, with cloth speakers on either side. The top lifted up to reveal the actual record player and there were shelves in the middle to store your collection.

As you took a seat on your knees in front of it, you glanced back to find him still staring after you, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise. “Do you like music?”

He cleared his throat and shuffled in place, still recovering from what you had said to him. Finally, he gave a nod and moved into the living room. When he took a seat on your sofa, with practically the entire room between you, you decided not to push him and turned back to your records. 

“What do you like to listen to?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?” You looked over your shoulder at him again and smiled playfully. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I played deep south gospel music?”

He shook his head, but his face betrayed him. You could tell he was judging you for your taste in music, though he tried hard not to show it. With a laugh, you turned back to the records and pulled one out. “I don’t listen to gospel music, Arthur. You can stop looking at me like I’m insane.” 

He attempted to say something along the lines of an apology but his words were silenced by the music you put on. Elton John, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, side two. It was one of your favorites and while you didn’t exactly picture Arthur to be a fan, he didn’t complain either. He did, however, watch you stand up from the floor and cross to the sofa.

Instead of putting the length of it between you, you sat on the cushion next to his and faced him with a smile as the music played. “Not your taste is it?”

He laughed softly. “It’s fine. I don’t hate it.”

“You don’t  _ hate _ it? What a glowing review for Elton John.” You reached out and playfully smacked him in the arm and he looked down at his lap, making you tilt your head in thought. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head before looking back up at you. There was that sweet guy inside his eyes, the one painfully timid and reserved, but just beneath it, barely even noticeable was the other guy. The one you had seen come out three days ago while sitting on his couch. That guy was the one you were most curious about. “I’m comfortable around you, which is strange.”

“So, you’re uncomfortable with how comfortable you are with me?” You took a sip from your soda and shrugged. “That actually makes perfect sense to me.”

“But, I don’t like you just because you--” he cleared his throat and your lips stretched into a grin. “Because you let me... _ kiss _ you.”

“It’s a bonus, though, right?” The blush on his cheeks was too much and you found yours burning just as bright. “I won’t tease you about it anymore. I don’t want to scare you off.”

“Why would that scare me off?” And he said it all while looking you in the eye. That was certainly a step in the right direction. Slowly but surely, you were coaxing out that other side of Arthur. Albeit,  _ very _ slowly. Either way, it was thrilling to think about what it would take to turn him back into that feral being he had been the other night.

Although, realistically, you were sure you could probably flash him once and he would probably pounce on you. Giving him another shrug, you draped an arm over the back of the sofa as Elton John continued to belt out  _ Goodbye Yellow Brick Road _ . “I don’t think it  _ would _ scare you off, but I just don’t want to push you too far.”

At this, he looked away with a nod. You leaned forward to place your drink down on the coffee table and when you sat back, you opened your mouth with the intent to ask him more about himself, but you never got the chance. Arthur caught you off guard, taking your face in his hands moments before kissing you.

Your eyes widened in surprise, finding his closed in concentration. Well, there was that other side. It hadn’t taken much coaxing at all. As flattered as you were, you had been telling the truth earlier. You liked hanging out with Arthur, without all the kissing. This was just an added bonus. 

And you honestly intended to break the kiss and tell him that there was no rush, that there would be plenty of time to kiss and touch and do  _ other _ things...until he moved his lips against yours, parting them to make room for his tongue. All logic shot out of your head in that moment and you found yourself kissing him back.

You trailed your hand over his arm and to his chest, gripping the front of his sweater in your fist and he responded by using his grip on your jaw to tilt your head to the side. In an instant, your mouth fit better against his and butterflies lifted up through your stomach. Arthur dropped his hand from your face and you could feel the hesitation hit him suddenly. He wanted to touch your breast like he had the other night, but something, possibly doubt or uncertainty weaseled into his head and he stopped himself. 

You took his hand and pressed it against your chest, pulling away from his kiss to look at his face. His breath was ragged and though you didn’t check, you were sure that if you glanced down, you’d see an erection pushing against his pants. “Arthur,” you whispered, making his eyes open.

The hesitation he had felt was written clearly in his eyes and they were immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

When he started to pull away, you tightened your hold on him and kept his hand pressing against your breast, with only the sweatshirt you wore between him and your bare skin. “Don’t be sorry. I want you to touch me.”

He let out a slow, shaking breath and nodded. His other hand had slipped from your face and currently sat in the space between your body and his. It was safe there, no man’s land, and you didn’t reach down to take hold of it like you wanted to. Baby steps, you reassured yourself. 

You ducked your head to meet his eyes and you let go of his wrist, smiling as he kept his hand where it was. “You touched me the other night like this, do you remember?”

“I-I thought I had imagined it.”

You laughed and leaned forward to press your forehead against his shoulder. His hand fell away from your chest and you tilted your head to press a kiss to his jaw. “If you imagined it, then so did I.”

The song switched and you glanced back to the record player. As much as you loved Elton, he didn’t quite have the ambiance that you were going to need for giving Arthur a lesson on sex. You gave him another quick kiss and stood, turning to face the record player. The music came to a halt with a quick scrape of the needle and you slipped the record back into the sleeve. 

It wasn’t often that you had a man in your apartment, or ever, really, and normally, you’d be worried that they would think you were strange for your tastes. But Arthur wouldn’t. He was okay with strange because he was strange. 

You ran your fingers over the assortment of records and found exactly what you were looking for. And since it reminded you so much of your ex, you were looking forward to making some new memories to associate with it. At your back, you could feel Arthur’s gaze burning across you, watching you stand to place the record onto the player.

It made a smile trace your lips and you set the sleeve down on the cabinet before turning to face him. His eyes were focused on you, slightly narrowed, as if he were trying to guess what you would do next. He was preparing himself, bracing himself for you to come back to the sofa and resume kissing him. That isn’t what you had planned to do.

As the music played from the speakers, all guitar and dark tempo, you gripped the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head. You prepared yourself for the awkwardness, knowing this was more than likely his first time actually seeing a naked woman in the flesh. You half expected him to laugh like he had Thursday night when you thought he was laughing at you. 

What you hadn’t prepared for was the flash of darkness through his gaze and it left you feeling much too hot, despite the fact that you were only wearing panties and your comfy leggings. Taking your lip between your teeth, you moved back to Arthur and stood in front of him. His eyes never left yours, careful not to dip any lower, as if he didn’t have permission to look yet. 

You held out your hand and he slowly, almost hesitantly, slipped his palm into yours. The smile on your face was slight, and he didn’t mirror it before you placed his hand on the same breast he had been touching before. His fingers trembled against the mound of flesh but slowly, he applied a bit of pressure and actually  _ felt _ you. 

His hand was cold, exactly as it had been the morning you’d went to lunch with him, and your nipples responded immediately to the feel of them. You let him move to the other breast, enjoying the exploration of his hands. It had been so long since you had been touched like this that you couldn’t help letting your eyelids narrow in pleasure.

“Arthur,” you murmured, barely loud enough to hear over the music. He didn’t answer, probably couldn’t, and that only made you smile more. “Is this the first time you’ve touched a naked woman?”

Through your half-lidded gaze, you saw him nod his head and you backed away. He reached for you but you were too quick. His hand fell to the couch and his face was turning red by the second. You wondered if he had any blood left to pump through his heart. Surely it was evenly halved between his face and his dick. 

“Do you want to learn about my body? What turns me on and where to touch me?”

Again, he could only nod and you did the same, hooking your thumbs into the waist of your pants. Just before you pushed them down, you met Arthur’s gaze and waited for him to stop you, to show any kind of hesitation or sign that this was too much. Surely he hadn’t expected this when he knocked on your door half an hour ago. 

Or maybe he had.

Either way, he made no signal that he wanted you to stop and if anything, looked eager to see where you were heading with this. You pushed your pants down your hips, leaving your panties in place, and once they were at your ankles, you kicked them to the side. Arthur was holding his breath, still too nervous to actually look at you and you let out a gentle laugh before reaching out to him. 

“Come on,” you said. Like an obedient puppy, he was on his feet as soon as the words left your mouth and his hand was in yours. You didn’t quite expect to be taking him to your bedroom so soon, and a part of you had a hard time believing you actually were. But the couch was no place to explore.

He followed behind you as you led him to the bedroom. He sat on the edge of your bed, right at the corner and you giggled. “At least take your shoes off.”

He kicked them off and you crawled across the mattress, sitting with your legs crossed. When he reached out to put a hand on his rapidly bouncing leg, you waited, giving him a moment to calm himself down. You weren’t going to push him past his limits and you were doing a good job making sure he wasn’t. 

“Come lay beside me.”

Arthur nodded, though he didn’t move. You frowned and put a hand to his shoulder, rubbing it across his back and were surprised by the bones pushing against his shirt. 

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. I can put my clothes back on if you want me to. I won’t be offended.”

“No,” he whispered with a soft laugh rasping the back of his throat. “I just...I’m nervous.”

“So am I. But a good kind of nervous. I want you to touch me, Arthur. I want to show you how and I want to touch you as well.” Slowly, as if it took a minute for your words to push past all the negative thoughts in his mind about himself, he turned to look at you from over his shoulder. “Will you come lay with me?”

You stretched your legs out in front of you and laid back on the pillows, patting the space beside you and with another nod, Arthur crawled up the length of your bed. He laid back and stared up at the ceiling, every muscle in his body tense. You watched him drum his fingers over his stomach and you reached out to take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers in the spaces between his. 

“You can look at me.”

You weren’t an overly confident kind of woman. You had a ton of insecurities about your body, just like the rest of the population, excluding a very small percent. There were a ton of things you looked at in the mirror, wishing you could change. The pudge in your lower belly, the one breast that was slightly bigger than the other, your nose and thighs. They had always been a source of insecurity within you, but with Arthur, you didn’t feel the need to cover yourself like you had with your past lovers.

He wouldn’t see cellulite or extra fat. He would see you and you felt at ease and comfortable being naked beside him. It was strange but good. Arthur took a deep breath and turned to face you, searching your eyes, looking for something that he would never ask out loud for. Permission, possibly, though you’d given him all access to your body. 

With his fingers still laced in yours, he let out a slow, shaking breath and reached over with his free hand and brought it back to your breast. It was a safe space for him. He’d already felt it and you genuinely didn’t mind. You’d always been fond of having your nipples played with and he moved so carefully, so slowly as to not hurt or bother you, that it was absolutely teasing you. So much that you couldn’t help closing your eyes and arching into his touch.

It made him stop and your eyes snapped open once more. He blinked a few times and started to pull away, but you shook your head. “Don’t stop. It feels good.”

He closed his hand back over your breast and kneaded it with his palm. Your eyes slid closed once more. Heat was already pooling in your belly and you squeezed your thighs together before letting out a sigh at the small jolt of pleasure that pulsed through your center. 

You felt him shift beside you and before you could open your eyes, he dipped his head down to your chest. The feel of his tongue, warm and so slick, against your nipple made you suck in a breath and you tightened your grip on his fingers. This time, he didn’t pull back, afraid he’d done something wrong. He swirled his tongue around your nipple and flattened it against it, sucking gently and leaving you practically panting for more.

Now that his hand was free, you reached up to take it, sliding it down the length of your belly. Even with him touching you and the warmth starting to pick up between your bodies, his hands were still cold and you felt your muscles twitch. At the elastic band of your panties, he hesitated and you didn't push him to go further. You were still enjoying what he was doing on your nipple anyway. 

"Arthur," you whispered, making him lift his eyes to meet yours without taking his mouth away. "Do you want to touch me here?" 

You traced the back of his fingers and a tiny shudder ran through him. He pulled away from your breast and let out a warm breath over the slick spots he left behind. He closed his eyes as you lightly scraped your nails down from his knuckles to his fingernails and back up. The seconds ticked by and from the living room Led Zeppelin was still playing through the speakers of the record player. 

It was astounding how aroused you were at that moment. Just touching him on the hand, having his mouth still near your breast, was driving you crazy. Just when you thought you wouldn't be able to take it for much longer Arthur lifted his head and looked in your eyes. He searched them and you felt lost in his gaze, so green and so intense that it left you a few degrees warmer. 

Not looking away from you, he slid his hand down the front of your panties, not yet dipping beneath them. Slowly, he moved between your legs and you could feel his cold fingers through the material of your panties. When he whispered, you nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. "You're wet."

He seemed almost surprised by his discovery and you wondered if he knew that was supposed to happen. Your lips stretched into a smile. "That happens when I'm turned on." 

"And I'm...I'm turning you on?" Oh, how endearing and sweet of him to ask that. You opened your eyes to find him staring at you with so much curiosity and a need for approval that you wanted to kiss him. You'd never wanted to kiss someone so much in your entire life. 

"Yes," you breathed, letting your head fall deeper into the pillow behind you. "You're turning me on. It feels so good when you touch me."

He put the heel of his palm against you and pressed gently, directly above your clit and the slight pressure made you gasp. Your hips bucked into his hand and he did it again, grinding his palm into you. If you had been wet before, you were practically soaked now. 

You let go of his hand and moved to your hips where your panties sat. "I'm going to take my panties off, okay?"

He answered you by helping pull them down and once you had kicked them from your ankle, his hand returned to your center without having to guide him back. You could feel his breath, hot and fast against your breast and you parted your legs to give him better access. He didn't know what to do and his fingers were hesitant and shaking against your folds. But that was okay.

You were a patient teacher. 

You reached for his hand and laid yours on top of his, lining your fingers up together. You positioned him along your slit and pushed his middle finger between it, where you were hot and wet. His breath shuddered, blowing across your chest and making your nipples hard. You guided his finger along your folds until he reached your clit and just having him touch you made your breath hitch.

"Do you feel that?" Just for good measure, you made him find it all over again. "That's my clit. Every time you touch it--" again, you repeated the same motion and his body was nearly trembling against yours. "It feels good. If you play with it enough, I'll come."

He nodded and without your guidance, he moved his fingers on his own, repeating what you'd shown him. Down and back up, over and over. He was careful not to press into it too hard and you had to lift your hips up slightly to push into his touch. Your lips parted with a sigh and your brows were pinched in concentration. He was a novice, but you'd had worse from more experienced guys. 

There was so much more to Arthur, things that only added to the desire and pleasure he was giving to you. Though you couldn't explain it, the two of you had a connection that only seemed to magnify with every new part of your body he explored. And you reached up to cup your own breast in your hand, fingers pinching and pulling at your nipple.

Suddenly, his hand came to a stop and your eyes snapped open. Before you could ask what was wrong, he lifted his head and looked into your eyes. "D-do you want me to use my mouth?" 

Half of your head was screaming  _ yes _ as loud as it could, while the other half knew you had to take this slow. As desperate as you were to feel his tongue on you, it would have to wait. You wiggled your hips and closed your eyes as he held you still with his middle fingers still moving slowly over your clit. 

“As much as I want to say yes, I think we should maybe get to that next time.” His eyes lit up at the mention of there being a  _ next time _ and a laugh bubbled up the back of your throat. It was quickly turned into a moan as he continued what he had been doing before. At your hip, you could feel his erection pushing into you and with each up and down motion he made with his finger, he did the same with his hips. 

It was driving you crazy. You wanted to throw all caution to the wind and fuck him right there, but you had no protection and as turned on as you were, you were still in your right mind. Dipping your hand between your bodies, you rubbed him through his pants and were surprised by what you found. Feeling him between your legs was one thing, but actually in your palm, you were able to properly get a feel for his size and…

You definitely weren’t disappointed.

Arthur groaned at your touch and leaned his head against your shoulder, breathing across your chest. His hips twitched as you pawed at him and you bit your lip, torn between needing to come and wanting more. What he was doing with his fingers felt so good that you didn’t want to stop, but god, did you want to find out what he felt like inside you.

Your breath panting, you dropped your head back into the pillows and pushed your hips off the bed, grinding into his hand. You were so close. Just a few more passes of his finger, back and forth, up and back down, and you brought your hand up to rake through your hair. A cry was pulled from your throat as your body tensed, toes curling and hips quivering. 

“Oh, fuck,” you hissed, squeezing your eyes shut at the burn of pressure spreading through your midsection. With Arthur’s name whimpered from your lips, you came, pressing your legs together to trap his hand against you. He didn’t stop doing exactly what you had shown him and as your orgasm rippled through you, every fiber of your being felt ten times as sensitive. You scrambled higher up the bed and gasped, trying to get away from his still eager fingers. 

Arthur sat up on his elbow and looked up at you, blinking with surprise as your body shuddered several more times. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel him staring at you, watching and studying your reaction and you took several breaths in and out to calm your racing pulse. Pressing your hand to your face, you finally peeked out at him and laughed. 

“Jesus...That was intense.”

“In a good way?” He asked eyebrows lifted slightly. You nodded and slid back down on the bed until you were parallel to his body and you slid your leg over his before facing him. 

“In the  _ best  _ way. Now,” you sat up on your elbow to mimic him and let your gaze fall down to the tent in his pants. “Would you like me to reciprocate?” 

He laughed, softly at first but it grew quickly into the kind of laugh that you could tell he hated. He reached up to put his hands over his face and dropped one to his throat. God, it broke your heart to see and hear him afflicted with this. You didn’t know what to do if you could do anything at all. In the end, you laid down against his shoulder and draped your arm across his stomach to wait it out. 

After several shaking breaths, he seemed to calm down, but he never took his hands away from his face. You peeked out from behind your eyelids and found his erection gone. He had gotten into his head again, probably assumed you were turned off by his laugh and you frowned, unsure if you should tell him it wouldn’t be too difficult to get it back.

“I need to go.”

His words surprised you and you sat up beside him. “Do you have to?” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. What happened to being breezy? What happened to keeping him in the friend with benefits zone, with extra emphasis on friend? You couldn’t be showing him you were disappointed to get an orgasm and then have him leave.

Though you were.

Even if he didn’t want to fool around, you still wanted him here.

“She doesn’t even know where I went,” he mumbled, and though he didn’t specify who  _ she _ was, you knew who he meant. Your shoulders slumped in disappointment and you reached up to pull his hand away from his face. He kept his eyes closed as if he were to embarrassed to look at you and you sighed.

There were no words that could reassure him in that moment, so you did the next best thing. You leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It took a moment, but he started to relax and you smiled against his mouth. When you pulled away, he reached up to brush your hair behind your ear and it sent those pesky butterflies fluttering from your stomach right to your heart. 

“If you have to leave, I understand,” you whispered, lips brushing feather-light over his. “But if you feel the need to balance this out, don’t hesitate to knock on my door.”

“When?”

“ _ Anytime _ . I get off work tomorrow night around nine.” And though your head was screaming at you not to do this, that you couldn’t get involved with him, that it would be a monumentally stupid idea, you didn’t even try to stop your smile. “We could go out for some dinner and maybe come back here?”

“L-Like a date?”

Ah, shit. You kissed him quickly and rolled away from him to stand to your feet. He sat up on his elbows and you crossed to your bedroom door where your robe was hanging on a hook. You wrapped it around you and tied the belt around your waist. “Let’s just call it dinner and fun for now.”

It was easier not defining anything. Because honestly, how would you even begin to describe this? Friends with benefits didn’t seem  _ enough _ , and dating felt  _ too _ much. It was what it was and that was the only way you could feel comfortable with it all. You watched Arthur slip his shoes back on and once he was done, you led him to the front door.

This time, it was your turn to stand at the threshold of your apartment, kiss him goodbye, and watch him walk down the hall. He blushed the entire way and you wondered what he was even going to tell his mother about his whereabouts for the past half hour. Would she be suspicious that her only son was sneaking down the hall to have a lesson on sex with the neighbor girl?

How clandestine.

You smiled and shut the door once he was inside his own apartment and as you clicked the lock into place, you dropped your forehead against the door with a sigh. What the hell were you doing? It was a question you had no idea how to answer and you weren’t sure you even wanted to answer it. And it wasn’t the only question you had to ask yourself at that moment. More importantly, why did you suddenly feel so lonely without him here?

* * *

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter out. I hope you enjoy this. It's more fluffy than smutty this time around :)

* * *

  
  


Arthur was rushing through the living room when you got to the Fleck’s apartment the next morning. He had a bag on his arm stuffed with what looked like clothes and was flipping the pillows of the couch over when you walked in. Penny was on her chair, watching the television with no regard to how frustrated he was becoming.

“Hi,” you said, shutting the door behind you. He didn’t even glance up and you tried to hide your frown from Penny’s gaze. She was just as oblivious to it as she was to her son's frustration.

“Good morning, dear.” 

“Everything alright?” You asked, eyeing Arthur. 

“No,” He said with a heavy sigh. “I’m late.”

You bit your tongue, not wanting to remind him that he seemed to always be late, and set your own things down on the kitchen counter to help him look for whatever he seemed to be searching for. Just as you neared the couch, he snatched up the keys from the crack between the cushions and pushed past you, not offering even a smile.

It hurt more than you cared to admit. 

He was out the door by the time you turned around to tell him goodbye and the door slamming behind him made you flinch. Was he angry with you? You tried to remember the things you’d talked about the day before but he had been so excited at the prospect of going out with you tonight. What had changed?

From behind you, Penny scooped at a bowl and your eyes narrowed as you turned back around. She was already eating her breakfast, which  _ you _ were the one usually to make it for her. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. She probably asked Arthur to make her something and he had obliged since he was so nice which made him late for work. 

“Penny,” you said softly, sitting on the edge of the messy couch. “You know I make your breakfast on Mondays.”

“I was hungry and Arthur doesn't mind.” She didn’t look at you as she scooped a bite of oatmeal into her mouth. She was too preoccupied with the morning news and the weather report that was predicting warmer weather this week. You glanced to the television out of the corner of your eye and sighed. It was obvious there was no getting through to her and you stood back to your feet, turning to straighten the couch that Arthur had messed up in his search for his keys.

As you worked around the room, you hoped he wouldn’t get into too much trouble for being late. And though you’d been here exactly when you had said you would, you felt you could have helped a bit if you’d been early. Which was ridiculous. You had no way of knowing she was going to be difficult today.

Once she was finished with her breakfast, you took the bowl into the kitchen to rinse off in the sink and as you stood there, staring down at the water, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. It was sitting beside your purse and jacket where you’d hastily set them down on the counter. Your eyebrow arched at the sight of the brown, folded notebook you’d seen Arthur writing in. 

He usually had it on his person or kept hidden from you. The night you’d seen him writing in it, he was quick to shut it and slide it out of your view. You chewed the inside of your cheek and turned the water off. You grabbed a towel to dry the bowl and shook your head. 

Peeking into his private things was wrong and you knew it, yet you still reached for the bent front cover of the notebook. Just as your fingers lifted the corner and you could see a tiny peek of the messy, scribbling handwriting inside, Penny called out your name.

You dropped the notebook and wiped your hands on your pants as if you’d been caught red-handed. “Yeah?” You poked your head around the kitchen wall to see her reaching for the coffee table. 

“Can you get my notepad on the desk?”

It was time for her morning routine of writing letters to Thomas Wayne. At first, you’d found it a bit sweet that she fixated on these letters to a man who would probably never glance twice at her, but now it was just annoying. When she finished, she would have you run down to the mailbox before the mailman stopped by and you were glad that she didn’t make Arthur wait around to do it. 

And sure enough, half an hour later, she had sealed the envelope and instructed you to take it to the mailboxes. By the time you’d made it down the stairs and back up, it wasn’t even ten and you sighed. 

Today was going to be a long day. 

.

.

Your feet were aching in your tennis shoes at nearly nine forty and you trudged your way up the stairs since the elevator was  _ still _ out of commission. Six flights of stairs and shoes that had very little support for your feet was not a good combination. In fact, it sucked and you swore that the next paycheck you got, you were going to splurge on some good tennis shoes. 

As soon as you reached the sixth-floor landing, you stretched your neck to the side and sighed as the bones cracked. It didn’t help the pressure that had been building along your spine, but it was satisfying to hear. And you were looking forward to finding some dinner, curling up in bed with a good book and maybe--

Your feet skidded to a stop at the sight of Arthur standing outside your front door. He lifted his head to you with a smile and your stomach was a flutter of butterflies...until you realized you’d completely forgotten about your non-date that you’d planned. The day had been so tedious and long that it had slipped your mind and now you didn’t know what to do.

Everything ached and you were exhausted. But he was standing there, hands clasped in front of him and beneath the tan jacket he wore, you could see he had dressed nice. A blue sweater over the top of a white collared shirt and a pair of tan slacks. He was the epitome of adorable and you couldn’t help the smile that stretched the corner of your lips. 

He looked nervous to see you and he shifted from one foot to the other, ducking his head as you made your way closer. Once you stopped a few steps from him, he looked up at you through his lashes and you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“How long have you been out here waiting?” You noticed the damp ends of his hair and a second later, the smell of his soap hit you. It shouldn’t have made the butterflies in your stomach  _ this  _ wild. 

“You said you got off work at nine.” 

“You’ve been waiting for forty-five minutes? You should have stood me up.” Even though this was not a date.

He laughed softly and shook his head. “That would’ve been rude. But if you’re too tired or you just don’t want to--I mean, we can--”

You laughed and reached out to gently push his shoulder with a playful scowl. “Don’t be silly. Let me change and we can go get some food.” As you twisted your key into the lock, you turned to glance back at him. “I’m kind of craving some greasy Chinese food. How about you?” 

It was so strange how the ache in your feet and back seemed to lift away as soon as you spoke to Arthur. They weren’t gone for good but were conveniently staying away to give you more time to spend with him and you were secretly thankful. A little time alone with him could be just what you needed to get the day’s taste out of your mouth. 

Arthur followed you into your apartment but stayed just inside the door like a gentleman as you moved into your bedroom. It made you smile to think about how different he was from every other typical guy. They thought once they’d seen a girl’s bedroom, they had permission to enter it whenever they wanted. Not Arthur. He didn’t want to overstep boundaries, even though he’d been in your bed, sucking on your nipples and making you come just the day before. Just the memory of his mouth on you almost made you call to him to join you for another round, but your stomach rumbled in protest.

The butterflies were too hungry at the moment.

You quickly shrugged out of your work uniform and kicked the pants to the corner of your room where the growing pile of laundry sat. If Arthur could see you from where he stood, you weren’t sure, but you were going to strut around as if he could. You shed your cheap bra and opted for a nicer one, keeping your back to the door. You hoped he was watching. 

He didn’t make a sound as you pulled on a pair of jeans and a nice top; a light blue to match his sweater. And as soon as you realized that, you wrenched it off and chose one that would clash. There was no reason to match him. You weren’t a couple and it would do well to remind yourself of that.

You went with a black button-up and tied the ends into a knot where the waist of your jeans sat on your stomach. There was no time to do your hair, but again, you shouldn’t have wanted to. This was greasy Chinese food with a friend. A friend that you were strutting around half-naked in front of and wanting him to watch you while you did it. 

After slipping on a pair of shoes, you joined Arthur once again in the hall to grab your purse and found him with his hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes on the floor. He didn’t look up at you and you noticed a slight tinge to his cheeks. Maybe he had been watching you after all.

“Ready?”

He nodded and you let him out before pulling the door shut behind you. Both of you were quiet the entire trip down to the ground floor and you didn’t know whether or not he was being shy or if  _ you _ were. Either way, it certainly felt like a first date and you crossed your arms over your chest. 

Awkward silences never bugged you and with Arthur, you were practically used to them by now. The guy wasn’t much of a conversationalist and you pursed your lips, wondering if you could change that. So far, you didn’t know much about him at all. Well, except that he was painfully shy, a bit weird, and sexually inexperienced. 

“Arthur,” you spoke before you even knew what you were going to say. When he lifted his head to peer over to you, the look in his eyes was so adorable you had to take a moment to just stare at him. It made you laugh softly and he frowned. 

“What?”

“Nothing. I guess I just wanted to say your name.” 

“Oh. I like hearing you say it.” He ducked his head and his smile was too infectious for you to resist. You leaned over and bumped your shoulder into his. It was the safest place to touch him at the moment but you couldn't help noticing the twitch in your fingers, practically itching to reach out and hold his hand. 

It didn't take long until you reached the hole in the wall Chinese restaurant. You'd ordered takeout from there several times since moving in and were looking forward to the beef and broccoli. The sign on the door displayed their hours of operation and you were glad that you'd have at least an hour to sit and eat. 

The waitress showed the two of you to a booth and you slid in across from Arthur. He ordered a water and you did the same. 

"Do you like Chinese food?" You asked him, reaching for a pack of sugar from the little container sitting on the table.

Arthur shrugged. "I never really eat it." 

Did he eat anything? Not once had you seen him eat a full meal since knowing him and you frowned. You were curious as to why he didn't eat, but wouldn't push it. If he wanted to tell you the reason, he would. 

You shook the strand of hair that had fallen from your ponytail away from your face and dumped the sugar into the cup of ice water the waitress set before you. "Want me to order for you? I think I've tried everything on the menu here." 

Arthur smiled and pulled the plastic menu closer to him. "I'm not hungry."

"This again." You nudged his foot beneath the table with your own and he looked up at you. "How about we get a plate and share it? I'm not letting you walk out of here without eating something."

He nodded and you felt pleased that he would at least  _ try _ . When the waitress came back around, you ordered a plate of fried rice with beef and broccoli. She took the menus and left the two of you alone and you sipped your water from a straw as you glanced around the dining area. There was only one other couple there and they both looked a bit strung out. The more you looked at them, the more you suspected the overly bleached blonde woman to be a hooker. 

Her skirt was tiny, barely covering her ass and she had on quite a cheap, faux leather coat. You glanced down to her long, red fingernails and reached across the table to nudge Arthur's hand with yours. He looked up at you and you nodded your chin to the couple across the room. He turned to look over his shoulder. 

"Do you think she's a hooker?" 

He laughed and quickly turned back around, putting his hand over his mouth so he wouldn't catch their attention. You grinned at him. 

"I mean, at least he's buying her dinner first. She looks bored." 

Arthur picked up the discarded paper from the sugar pack and folded it in half and then again, occupying his hands with something. You sat on yours to stop yourself from reaching over and taking them in yours.

"Let's play a game." 

He lifted his eyes to you and blinked. "What kind of game." 

You shrugged a shoulder and glanced around the dining room while you thought about it. All of the games you knew to pass the time were mildly dirty and while it would be fun to play them with Arthur, you didn't want to push him outside of his comfort zone. 

"How about this. I say a word and you have to say the first thing that pops into your head when you hear it." 

"Okay," he said with a bit of uncertainty in his tone. 

You smiled and looked up to the ceiling in thought. "Water."

"Shower." 

"Okay, that one was easy. Now you give me a word."

Arthur cleared his throat and looked down at the table for a moment. When he looked back up at you, you smiled. "Clown," he said.

"Funny." You waited for a moment before giving him another word. "Girl."

"You." He seemed surprised by his answer and the tops of his cheeks turned pink. For a second, you were afraid he would get too shy to continue but he surprised you by saying another word. "Love."

The air froze in your lungs and your smile faded quickly from your face, though you tried not to show him. Whether this was his way of finding out how you felt about love or if you were feeling it now, you weren't sure. But you didn't want to hide anything from him. You cleared your throat and looked down at the table before answering. "Let's play something else." Something without words. "Ever had a thumb war?" 

For some reason, touching him felt safer now than speaking. You forced a smile as bright as you could make it and while he stared at you, you refused to let it slip this time. When he didn't answer, you reached across the table and hooked your fingers around his so your thumbs were sticking up in the air. 

You explained the rules, trying to ignore how cold he was, and for the first round, you let him win. Though not by much. He was surprisingly stronger than you expected. You glanced across his chest, wondering if he hid muscles beneath his sweaters and jacket. Of course, you knew the answer to that. You'd seen and felt exactly what he was hiding beneath his clothes and as he concentrated on clamping your thumb beneath his for the second round, you stared at his face. 

It wasn't fair how oblivious he was to his own handsomeness. It also wasn't fair how gorgeous his eyelashes were. Even with the best mascara, you'd never be able to achieve anything like that and you were jealous. But in a good way. At least you were able to admire his so up close. The corner of your lips lifted in a lopsided smile. 

As his thumb came down over yours for a second time, he looked up with bright, wide eyes and your smile widened. You didn't pull your hand away from his, though you were aware of the voice in the back of your head reminding you that it wasn't a good idea to keep touching him. But damn, it felt good to touch him. It sent those butterflies fluttering against your stomach again and warmth flooded your face. 

Arthur blinked down at your hands, still hooked around one another and slowly, hesitantly, he brushed your thumb with his. His touch, despite being so cold, left your skin heated. You swallowed and opened your hand, dragging the tips of your fingers down his palm and over the sensitive skin just inside his wrist. 

After just a few touches, you were caught off guard by how turned on you were. You were beginning to regret not inviting Arthur into your apartment for a quick sandwich instead of going out. The two of you could be naked by now. 

The waitress stepped up to the table and you jerked your hands back, immediately tucking your hair behind your ear. You could feel the heat on your face now and you forced a polite smile to the woman as she set the plate of food down. You'd been so caught up with touching him that you forgot about your hunger. 

You picked up your fork and noticed he did not do the same. As much as you wanted to fight him on it, you didn't. If he wanted to eat, he would. Besides, the sooner you finished your meal, the sooner you could get back home to dessert. That thought was the reason you barely ate half of your food, despite being so hungry. Well, that and the fact that Arthur was staring at you while you ate which didn’t help you feel very confident.

You dabbed the corners of your mouth with a napkin and sighed as you stabbed a piece of broccoli with your fork. “You’re staring at me,” you said, lifting your eyes to look at him.

He ducked his head with a smile. “I’m sorry.”

“If I have something on my face you have to tell me.”

“No,” he said, looking up at you. The look in his eyes definitely made you forget about being hungry. “You don’t.”

Was he even aware he was doing anything to you with that look? It was the same one he’d given you the night you confronted him about his sexual experiences on his couch. The one full of dark and hidden desires that lit you up from the inside out and left your face flushed. He wanted to kiss you, and possibly more.

You set your fork down on the plate and pushed it away to the edge of the table. There was no way you’d be able to eat another bite knowing he was thinking about you in that way. Because if you were going to be honest with yourself, you were wanting the same thing he wanted. 

Thankfully, it didn’t take the waitress long before she spotted your plate and she came to retrieve it, dropping the check off with two fortune cookies. You plucked one up from the tray and opened it, nodding to the other left behind. “At least read your fortune.”

He nodded and took the cookie, cracking it open to pull the little strip of paper from the center. “What’s it say,” you asked while doing the same to yours.

“Be the change you want to see in the world.” His voice was quiet and you studied him briefly before glancing down to your own fortune. The words were tiny but they jumped off the page at you and left you feeling a bit sick to your stomach. 

_ Fall for someone who isn’t your type _

Was this the universe’s sick, cosmic joke? You shifted on the seat and cleared your throat, crumpling the fortune in the palm of your hand as you looked up at him. Arthur smiled at you. “What did yours say?”

“Oh,” you scoffed and slid to the edge of the booth before standing to your feet. He followed and stood beside you while you fished out some money from your purse. You quickly shoved the crumpled fortune into the pocket of your jeans. “Apparently, an exciting business trip is in my future. I always get the boring ones.”

Outside, the air was crisp and cool and you crossed your arms over your chest. You lifted your face to the sky and sighed, wishing you could see the stars. The lights from the city washed that possibility out and you let your imagination run wild with the thought of taking Arthur out of Gotham, to visit the quiet neighborhoods you had grown up in. The stillness suited him better than this city. 

He would like it, you decided, turning to face him. 

He looked up at you as he pulled a cigarette from the box he had in the pocket of his jacket. Before he could light it up, you stepped closer to him and reached for his free hand, slipping yours against his palm. The muscles along his throat twitched as he swallowed and you smiled at the thought of him being nervous at your affection. 

It only made you want to do more. 

You swiped your tongue over your teeth and hoped your kiss wouldn’t taste like beef or broccoli and you pulled him closer to your body. The fabric of his sweater was soft against your palm as you rest it over his chest and beneath it, you could feel his breath quickening. “Arthur,” you whispered, tilting your head until your mouth was right against the line of his jaw.

He swallowed again and the corner of your lips lifted when he whispered, “yes?”

“I want you to kiss me.”

His breath hitched in his throat. “Right here?” You watched his eyes dart around the street and it brought a quiet giggle to your throat.

“Yes. Right here, right now.” 

Arthur nodded and slowly looked down at you, glancing to your lips still lifted in a small smile. Slowly, and a bit hesitantly, he lowered his mouth to yours and gave you the softest kiss imaginable. You could barely feel his lips, but it made your body react the same way it would if he’d given you one like how he’d kissed you the first time on his couch. 

You slid your hand up his chest and around to the back of his neck, twisting your fingers in the curls beneath his hair. This was definitely out of his comfort zone and you worried he would pull away. He surprised you by pressing his lips harder against yours. When his hand circled your waist and flattened along the small of your back, you let out a soft sigh. 

The sounds of the street around you and the million lights of the city melted away at that moment. You didn’t care if the people passing by stared, or if you looked a little strange kissing someone outside of a hole in the wall Chinese restaurant. There was nothing but his kiss and what it did to you. Your toes curled in your shoes, pulse raced, and your fingers tightened around the length of his hair you’d tangled them in. 

Arthur leaned his head to the side just a little and you parted your lips to let him slip his tongue against yours. If you tasted like beef and broccoli, he didn’t seem to mind and you ignored the thought before it could make you laugh. You gripped the front of his sweater to keep him close to you and lost yourself in the kiss. 

And judging by the way he was kissing you back, you could tell he was lost in it as well. Arthur’s hand slipped from your jaw down to your neck to circle around to the back of your head and your knees weakened at the feel of his fingers curling through your hair. Everything he was doing was hypnotizing; the way he moved his jaw, the taste of his tongue, his grip tightening through your hair. It all joined together and made you absolutely drunk with desire.

At that moment, you would have pulled him into a darkened alley and let him fuck you against the side of a building. You didn’t care who watched. You just wanted him. 

Out in the street, a car sped by with its horn blaring loudly and Arthur jumped away from you, pulling a cry from your throat in protest. Through the haze of your lust, you could hear the driver yelling out the window. “Get a room!”

You blinked up at Arthur to find him scrubbing his palm over his face and digging through his pocket for his lighter, obviously embarrassed by what had happened. His eyes darted around to the few people that he could see and his face was lit with color. He wouldn’t even look your way and you tried to catch your breath as you watched him smoke. Maybe kissing him like that in public had pushed him out of his comfort zone. You bit down on your bottom lip and crossed your arms over your chest.

For once, you were at a loss for words and could only let out a small laugh that pulled his attention back to you. He let out his breath of smoke and you watched it curl above his head before blinking at him. Instead of saying anything, you held your hand out toward him and he looked down at it. After only a moment of hesitation, he slid his palm against yours and together the two of you walked toward the apartment building. 

You didn’t ask him to kiss you again and he didn’t try, much to your disappointment. You were afraid that he was uncomfortable, that you’d pushed him too far and he was having second thoughts. And as much as you wanted to invite him back into your apartment to finish what he’d started on the street, you knew it was probably for the best if you both went your separate ways.

Halfway up the six flights of stairs, you squeezed his hand and he turned to glance at you from over his shoulder. “Hey,” you said softly, giving him a small smile. “Thanks for not standing me up tonight.”

He laughed and nodded. “I wouldn’t have done that.”

“I know you wouldn’t. I had a lot of fun.” The words stuck in your throat as you stepped onto the sixth floor and turned toward your apartment door. You swallowed to dislodge them and glanced up at him as you spoke. “If I didn’t have to work so early tomorrow, I’d invite you in.”

Arthur glanced from you to your door and back to meet your eyes as the realization sank in. It hurt to know he was expecting you to invite him in any way and the disappointment in his eyes made you start to reconsider. He pulled his hand free of yours and nodded, reaching up to comb his hair away from his face. 

“Oh,” he started. “Yeah, I should probably check on my mother anyway.”

You nodded and came to a stop outside your door. You occupied your hands by digging into your purse for your keys and hoped he didn’t notice the frown on your face. There was no reason to be disappointed. It was your idea to end the night in the first place. Why were you acting like he had dumped you?

If you weren’t too stubborn, you would have thrown caution to the wind and pulled him into your apartment the moment the door opened. But you didn’t. You stepped into the door and turned back to smile at Arthur. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Arthur.”

He nodded and blinked at you before a small smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Goodnight.”

You shut the door before you could grab him by the collar and pull him in and once the lock was clicked into place, you dropped your head against the frame. For something that wasn’t supposed to be a date, it sure felt like it was. As you turned back to head into your bedroom since you would have to wake up bright and early tomorrow, your hand reached into your pocket to retrieve the crumbled strip of paper. 

The fortune unfurled in your palm and you straightened it out, staring down at the typed words with a small smile playing at your lips. You set it down on your bedside table and stripped your clothes off, not bothering to pull on your pajamas. After the kind of kiss he had given you, you were going to need some time to yourself before you fell asleep. 

You slipped your hand between your legs and closed your eyes, imagining it was Arthur’s fingers instead of your own. A part of you was aware of how dangerous things were getting between the two of you. It didn’t feel like a friends with benefits kind of thing at that moment, but maybe you were just caught up in the moment. 

Even after you had finished, coming to the thought of Arthur lying beside you, pleasuring you with his fingers, your feelings didn’t change. You still missed him, still regretted not inviting him in, and the fortune, sitting so innocently on your bedside table, still made you feel strange. 

_ Fall for someone who isn’t your type _ …

If there was anyone in the world who wasn’t your type, it was Arthur. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one was more fluff....but that only means the smut is coming next chapter and I'm excited to write Arthur finally getting something :D


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